


Wonderland

by mskatej



Series: Man in the Middle [2]
Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Threesome - F/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-01
Updated: 2012-09-01
Packaged: 2017-11-13 07:53:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/501197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mskatej/pseuds/mskatej
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This picks up where <i>Man in the Middle</i> left off. Like, on the same day. </p><p>Rachel and Harvey can't stay away from each other and Mike eventually finds out. Somehow they need to make it up to him...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wonderland

**Author's Note:**

> A million thanks go to [thatotherperv](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thatotherperv/pseuds/thatotherperv), kickass beta, the world's greatest cheerleader, all round amazing human. Love you, dearest! ♡

Rachel goes to bed early that night and not just because she’s exhausted. She wants to roll around in the sheets she didn’t bother changing, the sheets that still smell like sex and Harvey. She strips off all her clothes, climbs into bed, and runs her hands up and down her body, squirming with the pleasure of remembrance. His face, his naked body, his tongue inside her, the things he _said_. She wishes he were there right now, kissing her, talking into her ear about Mike, making her come. 

God. 

She fantasizes about Harvey and masturbates until she has an explosive orgasm that leaves her gasping for breath. 

~

On her way out of Louis’s office early Wednesday morning she runs into Mike, and is taken aback by the way his eyes light up and mouth curves into a wide, delighted smile. 

“Rachel,” Mike says, and she could swear he lost his breath for a moment. “Can we talk?”

Instead of stopping, Rachel continues walking in the direction of her office, forcing Mike to do a swift one eighty and fall into step beside her. “Sure, what’s up?” she says, keeping her tone businesslike. She has the unsettling sense that Mike wants to talk about their relationship, and she’s not ready for that, not yet. She was up half the night dreaming about his damn boss; getting into it with Mike again about whether or not they have a future is only going to nurture her guilt complex, and confuse things even further. 

A few more days to wallow in her Harvey-crush, and then she can deal with Mike. 

“I know you told me not to, but I listened to your message,” he’s murmuring in her ear, and there’s no mistaking the flirtation in his tone.

Rachel keeps her gaze fixed straight ahead of her, and doesn’t slow down the pace. “We talked about this. That was a mistake, and you agreed with me yesterday, remember?”

“Of course I remember. And I didn’t agree, I just didn’t disagree. Thing is...”

They’re at her office but Rachel turns at the door, blocking his entrance. “Mike, I’m really busy. Can we do this another time?”

He frowns at her, as if he doesn’t quite understand why she’s being so rude to him. Which of course he doesn’t, because how could he. “The thing is,” he says again. “I can’t go back either. I’m seeing Jenny tonight.”

Rachel widens her eyes at him and gulps. “You’re gonna...”

Mike nods. “Yep. I care about her. I love Jenny, I do. But it’s not right. I can’t stay in a relationship with her when all I can think about is you.”

“Mike...” Jesus. What is she supposed to say to that? “Just.” She runs a hand through her hair and stares at his chest for a few long moments. “Do what you have to do with Jenny, and then...we’ll talk.”

His smile is so confident and genuine that Rachel’s heart swells a little in her chest. There’s no denying that this is more than just a gesture, and Rachel isn’t made of stone. He’s leaving his girlfriend for her and, Harvey getaway notwithstanding, Mike is still one of her favorite people in the world. Okay, so he might not be the only person she’s attracted to at the moment, but who ever said you were only allowed to have feelings for one person at a time? 

They’ll talk tomorrow. If he does go through with ending things with Jenny then Rachel needs to seriously consider...dating him.

Will it bother Harvey if she and Mike get together? Should she warn him that it’s on the cards?

The thought of seeing Harvey fills her belly with butterflies, and God, this situation is so absurd she nearly laughs out loud. Using what’s happening with Mike as an excuse to have a conversation with Harvey? That’s the crux of the problem right there. Because it’s not as though she doesn’t want Mike to dump Jenny; it’s not as though she’s against the idea of dating him - they’re great together, he’s amazing, they could really _be_ something. 

And Harvey isn’t a viable prospect. 

Maybe as a fuck buddy...

But she can’t choose a fuck buddy, no matter how attractive he is, over the potential love of her life. Harvey was a one night stand and it’s highly unlikely it’ll be more than that, so. That sad reality is what will make the decision for her.

~

Only when she doesn’t see Harvey once that whole day she finds herself going home feeling anxious. 

Why didn’t he come say hi?

Her fantasies that night are as focused on Harvey as they had been the night before, but there’s a bittersweetness to them this time because Harvey’s snub reinforces the reality, the horrible, unfair reality, that she’s not going to get another shot with him. 

~

It’s not even nine am on Thursday by the time Mike tracks her down with the express purpose of letting her know that he’s now a free agent and that he wants to take Rachel on a date.

With no word from Harvey and no sign of him by mid afternoon, Rachel can’t think of a good reason not to go out with Mike, so she finds him before she goes home for the day and tells him she’s free Saturday night. He wants to take her out tonight, but she isn’t ready. The truth is, she’s feeling too bummed out about Harvey to give Mike the attention he deserves, and she wants a couple more days to work through those feelings. Her full-proof plan is to be totally over Harvey by Saturday so her new life with Mike can begin.

Of course then Harvey ruins that plan.

~

Late on Friday afternoon, Rachel is in the library doing research. She’s deep in the stacks, plucking out a book from the shelf when she feels the presence of someone behind her. Turning, she finds herself face to face with Harvey; stylish, handsome Harvey, in his beautiful blue suit, power-tie and knowing eyes. She does her best to keep off her face just how weak-kneed she feels at being so close to him again. 

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he tells her, his voice low. 

Rachel can’t help smiling, a rush of giddy excitement filling her up from the inside out, causing her to forget all about the Harvey-induced anxiety she’s been battling the last few days. “And what can I do for you, Mr. Specter?”

He moves in a little closer and she can feel the warmth of his breath against her ear as he speaks. “Do you have plans tonight?”

Oh God, oh God, this is happening, it’s actually happening. She should say no, she should play it cool, she should resist this man and go home alone, get her beauty sleep so she feels fresh and fabulous for her date with Mike tomorrow.

“What did you have in mind?” she replies.

He tucks a small piece of folded paper into her hand. “That’s my address. Come up for a nightcap later. Ten o’clock?” he says, moving past her, inclining his head in her direction as he awaits her response.

Mike wants to take her on a date. Harvey wants a booty call.

Could it be the best of both worlds? 

“Okay.”

He flashes a quick grin at her and then he’s gone, and Rachel can barely contain her joy. There goes her concentration. She leans back against the heavy books, heart racing, mind whirring, and her thoughts descend instantly to the gutter as the reality of what Harvey is going to _do_ to her later sends a wave of arousal crashing through her nether regions. She squeezes her legs together and holds in a whimper. 

~

Rachel spends approximately two hours grooming herself in preparation for her night with Harvey. She trims, shaves and plucks where necessary, soaks in a tub full of skin-softening bath salts, washes her hair, moisturizes every inch of her body, and puts on her sexiest underwear that’s also classy enough to please Harvey. The dress she chooses is a soft-gray knee-length halter-neck with a plunging cowl neckline, that clings to her body in all the right places. It’s a little dressy for a night in but she wants to look her best. 

She’s doing a terrible thing, but knowing that isn’t enough to make her call it off. Tonight she’ll work through her Harvey feelings, get him out of her system; tomorrow night she’ll let Mike woo her. It’s her new full-proof plan. 

~

It’s probably a huge social faux pas that she’s five minutes early for her date with Harvey, but now that she’s here at his door she’s not just going to stand around and wait until the clock strikes ten before she knocks. So she slips off her coat and holds it dangling from one hand, breathes in deep and lets it out slow. Knocks three times.

When it swings opens, Harvey is standing there in front of her, looking dashing and sexy in a navy, open-collared shirt and gray slacks. Rachel grins at him. He tilts his head and his eyes travel slowly down her body, slowly up again. 

With a low hum and a sincere smile, he shakes his head. “Wow,” he says. “You’re _beautiful_. Come in.”

Rachel walks inside, close enough to Harvey to feel the heat of his body caress her as she slips past him.

He’s doing that thing where he’s walking too close behind her and it’s all Rachel can do not to collapse onto the floor with her legs in the air and just weep uncontrollably until he fucks her. 

She’s not nervous about whether they’ll have anything to talk about—Harvey is a master at social interaction, if he doesn’t want there to be any awkward silences there won’t be—but she is nervous. She’s nervous that he won’t want to talk to her.

It’s not as if she’s under any illusions about what she is to Harvey—he invited her here at ten o’clock on a Friday night. This isn’t a date, this isn’t romantic, this isn’t about getting to know her better. The problem is...

The problem is that Rachel would like to, for lack of a better phrase, _hang out_ with Harvey for a while before they jump into bed. One of the best things about Monday was his company. Yes, she wants to have sex with him again, good God does she want that, and she probably won’t complain, or challenge him, if they skip the formalities. But sex isn’t the only reason Rachel’s here. Harvey is fun. He’s charming and intelligent and interesting. He’s enjoyable to be around, and she likes him. She’s in his apartment, wearing her new dress, and the truth is, she wants this to be more than just a booty call. 

She wants this to be a date.

He pops open a bottle of champagne and pours them both a glass. “A dress like that deserves the good stuff. You want a tour?”

“Definitely,” she says, gazing around the luxurious surroundings. The place is huge and stylish and modern, a little too pristine for Rachel’s tastes, a little obnoxious—but that’s Harvey for you—and definitely not a place Mike would be caught dead living in. But the low lighting and the music playing—something warm, sexy and bluesy that Rachel doesn’t recognize—offsets the impersonal feeling, and makes her feel both relaxed and excited. The apartment is not what she expected but she likes it, maybe because just being here makes her feel connected to Harvey in a way she would never have imagined possible a week ago. 

The TV room is more to Rachel’s taste - warm and intimate, with a plush two-seater couch pointed at the television - an enormous shiny black flat-screen, mounted on the opposite wall. There are two other chairs on either side of the coffee table, but Rachel doesn’t think Harvey uses them. She can picture him sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table and his beer on the side table, within reaching distance. This is where Harvey indulges his more manly instincts - this is where he watches ball games and all those movies he likes to quote from with Mike. She’s weirdly relieved that he has this…normal side to him, because he was starting to seem unreal. 

He saves his bedroom for last, and Rachel half expects him to make his move then, but instead he stands at the door while she wanders around, taking it all in; it’s cozier than the rest of the place; the bed is big and inviting, and the view of the city through all the floor-to-ceiling windows is spectacular. She wonders how much time he spends here. 

As she leaves the room, he slides a quick hand over her belly and grabs her by the waist, leans in and murmurs, “I like seeing you in here.”

Rachel bites her lip and smiles. Harvey is in seduction mode, and _damn_. 

She can’t think of a reply that isn’t lame, so she pushes out of his grip and returns to the living room, sitting on the sofa and taking a long, nerve-calming sip of (delicious, expensive) bubbly—she didn’t catch a glimpse of the label but she thinks it might be a vintage Moët—and attempts to regulate her breathing. Harvey joins her on the sofa, laying his arm over the back, touching her hair with light, distracting fingers.

“It’s good to see you,” she says. 

“You too. I’ve been thinking about you a lot this week.”

“I should hope so.”

Harvey’s smile is warm, flirty, weirdly unreadable. 

“I’m going out with—” she stops. Unsure whether she should tell him, but it’s too late, his interest is piqued.

“You’re going out with...?” he asks her but the twinkle in his eyes suggests he knows exactly how her sentence was going to end.

“Tomorrow night. He asked me out on a date. I figured...” What exactly did she figure? How can she put this without giving too much away? “You weren’t going to...” oh fuck why is she so inarticulate? She shakes her head and decides that honesty is the only way forward - Harvey’s the kind of man who appreciates honesty, and he’s looking at her like he expects nothing less than the truth. He’s amused right now, but this isn’t a joke to him. “I thought it would be okay to say yes because I didn’t think you wanted to see me again. I didn’t expect to be seeing you tonight, and now I feel terrible. I’m going to cancel on him.”

Harvey shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“Harvey,” Rachel says with a frown. “What are you playing at?”

“I’m not playing at anything. I wanted to see you again, I asked you to come over and you said yes. But I have no intention of standing in the way of you and Mike, should your feelings for one another be more serious than your feelings for me.”

Rachel tips her head back and stares at the chandelier. “My feelings for you.” That’s a good one.

“Hey,” Harvey says, lifting her chin with his index finger, staring into her eyes. “I know this is complicated and I know I shouldn’t have invited you over.”

“Why did you?”

“I like you,” Harvey says. “And I want you. But we both know this doesn’t have a future.”

Rachel nods, looks off to the side. “I know. Do you think I have a future with Mike?”

Harvey shrugs. “If he doesn’t do anything stupid, maybe.”

“But don’t you feel...” Rachel spreads her hands, bewildered. “Guilty? You and he are close. He trusts you. He adores you, Harvey. If he knew we were here. Again. He’d never forgive you.”

“I know,” Harvey says, like it’s something he hasn’t let himself think about much. “I...don’t feel good about doing this to him. But what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

“And you trust me? You trust me enough that you think I won’t ever tell him?”

Harvey just looks at her, a slight squint in his eyes, and she can tell her words took him by surprise. “I think when people are hurt they’re capable of just about anything, and I know that if this—” he pauses, nods at her. “If this continues the chance of you getting hurt increases exponentially. But I also know people, and you’d never deliberately hurt someone you care about. And you care about Mike.”

Oh so that’s how it is. Rachel grins. “So you’re relying on me caring too much for Mike to get revenge on you when you inevitably screw me over. Good to know.”

“It’s possible I haven’t thought this through,” Harvey replies, his tone wry. “But if it’s any consolation, I have no intention of screwing you over.”

“I know.”

“As long as we’re honest with each other—”

“But not with Mike—”

“Right. As long as we’re honest with each other, I don’t see why we can’t have some fun together. Do you agree?”

Such a pretty simplification. But the way Harvey refers to what they’re doing as ‘fun’ makes Rachel tingle. Because even though she knows—and she knows he knows too—that this could, and probably will, end in disaster, the pleasure they take in one another trumps any reservations she may have. Harvey is clearly in that boat with her. She scooches closer.

“I agree,” she says. She’s not sure she does. She leans in and kisses him on the mouth and the champagne taste of him makes her squirm. 

They don’t waste any time after that. Soon he’s carrying her into the bedroom, her legs wrapped around his waist and their mouths jammed together, soon they’re shedding their clothes. Harvey takes a moment to admire her black and red silk lingerie and then he tells her to leave it on, he can work around it. He pushes the crotch of her panties aside to finger her, and eat her out, and fuck her. It’s not until after her first orgasm that he lets her get naked, and then they fuck in every position in Rachel’s repertoire, and a few in Harvey’s that Rachel’s never tried before. 

They take sips of champagne throughout, and at one point he pours the cool remnants of his glass all over her breasts and then licks up every drop.

She sits in his lap, their legs and arms wrapped around each other, his cock inside her; they’ve been fucking for a few hours and there’s been no further mention of Mike. 

Until Harvey brings him up.

“Are you gonna fuck Mike tomorrow?”

Rachel groans and tugs on the skin at Harvey’s throat with her teeth, arousal pulsing through her, acutely aware of the delicious, steady thrust of Harvey’s cock inside her. Why does this subject turn her on so much?

“Do you want me to?”

Her engagement in this twisted conversation seems to be exactly what Harvey was hoping for because his thrusts get sharper, his grunts louder. 

“Yeah,” he whispers. “I want you to fuck him...and then come here...and tell me what it was like.”

“Oh that’s so wrong...I could come over...I could tell you what he likes...I could show you what he likes.”

Harvey moans and pulls her closer, speeds up, her breasts sliding against his chest, their skin slick with sweat. Choked off gasps punctuate his moving hips. “I’d like that.”

And there’s something about the way he says it that makes Rachel think there’s more than an element of truth in his words.

“Would you? Would you really?”

“Yes.” His voice a whisper, like he can barely get it out. “I want you to fuck him and then come to me and fuck me.”

Rachel cries out and comes. 

But Harvey doesn’t stop.

Rachel has four orgasms and as many hours sleep that night.

~

When she wakes up Harvey’s not there, so she gets out of bed, retrieves the black shirt he was wearing last night from the floor, puts it on and fastens a few buttons. She follows the tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee out of the bedroom and into the kitchen, and smiles at the sight of a barefoot Harvey, in jeans and a t-shirt, making scrambled eggs.

“Hungry?” he asks her.

“Starving,” she says. “Wow, and you cook too.”

“Breakfast food is my specialty. Here.” He pushes a mug of coffee towards her as she takes a seat at the counter. “You look good in my shirt.”

“Thanks,” she says, rubbing her eyes. “Good Lord I’m tired, and it’s all your fault.”

Harvey grins. “You’re welcome.”

She waits until she’s halfway through her eggs—which are excellent; maybe breakfast food really is his specialty—before broaching the subject that’s been playing on her mind since she became conscious. She keeps her tone humorous. “About what we talked about last night. Just so we’re clear, I’m not going to fuck Mike. And if I do, I’m certainly not coming here afterwards to fuck you.”

Harvey huffs out a laugh. “Did we not already have that conversation about you not taking my dirty talk seriously?”

“We did, yes,” Rachel says. “But the fact that we have a tendency to talk about Mike when we’re...you know...leads me to believe that...” she clears her throat. Gives him a look. She doesn’t want to have to spell it out.

“Don’t say it,” Harvey says. “The things I get off on when we’re together...trust me they’re as surprising to me as they are to you. But I do know the difference between reality and fantasy, and whatever fantasies we share...that’s all they are. Okay?”

“Okay.” Rachel takes a breath. “Does that mean you want to do this again?”

Harvey gives her a considering look. “I guess that depends on how your date goes with Mike.”

Rachel knows better than to tell Harvey she’ll cancel on Mike if it means getting a definitive answer from him, but all she’s thinking right now is that she wants to see Harvey again, and that she doesn’t want to date two men at the same time. 

But there’s something going on with Harvey. His desire to involve Mike in their sex life is unsettling, mostly because Rachel enjoys it so much. Whether Harvey is sexually attracted to Mike, or if this really is just a fantasy he has no intention of following through on, Rachel can’t quite figure out, but it’s obvious he’s interested in some kind of proxy experience. It’s obvious he wants Rachel to have sex with Mike, and then for her to tell him about it, no matter what he says about fantasy versus reality, and even if he won’t admit it outside the bedroom.

And the worst thing about it is, Rachel is so turned on by him, and by the way they talk to each other in bed, that she _wants_ to go against her better nature for him. She wants to fuck Mike and tell Harvey about it.

But she won’t. 

Because it’s wrong.

~

Her date with Mike is distressingly successful. He takes her to a great restaurant, which he admits afterwards was chosen on Donna’s recommendation, and he’s wonderful company: she feels so comfortable with him she finds herself opening up in a way she can’t imagine doing with Harvey; there’s much laughter and easy flirting, he makes her feel fun and interesting and beautiful. He’s cute as hell, he’s nice, charming, confident, sexy...

Ugh.

When he walks her out and hails her a cab she lets him kiss her, and he kisses well, as well as Harvey does, the kiss makes her want to go further but guilt and fear are bubbling up inside her, filling her chest with anxiety and making it difficult to keep the smile on her face sincere when they break apart.

“So,” Mike says, the word dripping with suggestion. “Do you wanna...share a cab...” he pauses, apparently deciding whether or not to make his proposition more explicit. He does. “To my place?” He looks thoughtful for a moment. “Or yours,” he adds.

Rachel’s breath catches in her throat and a barrage of conflicting thoughts and feelings battle it out in her head, before she manages to reply, with far more composure than she feels. “Not tonight,” she says, brushing her palm over his chest. “Let’s not rush this. Let’s do it right.”

He responds with a rueful smile. “Okay,” he says, nodding. “Sounds like a plan.” 

He kisses her again and then Rachel jumps into the cab, and after a minute or so of being driven in the direction of her apartment she tells the cabbie to turn at the corner and take her to Harvey’s place. 

Harvey doesn’t look surprised to see her. He smiles and steps aside, talking to her as she walks past him into the house. “I take it the date didn’t go well.”

“Oh, it went great,” Rachel replies, stopping halfway down the hall and turning around to face him. He stops directly in front of her, his body an inch away from hers, and she slides her hands up his chest until they’re gripping his neck, leans up into a lingering, sexy as hell kiss. “We had so much fun.”

“Ah,” Harvey says, running his hands down over her ass, kissing her again. “How did you leave things?”

Rachel’s laugh is tinged with hysteria. She untangles herself from Harvey’s embrace and continues her journey toward the living room. “I said I wanted to take it slow.” Only she doesn’t want to stop here so she keeps on walking until she’s in Harvey’s bedroom again, and it feels wrong to be here, like she doesn’t belong here; she should be at Mike’s place, or at her place with Mike, not here with this man whose intentions are inscrutable at best, destructive at worst; but he’s behind her now, unzipping her skirt, taking off his own clothes. 

“I couldn’t do it,” she says once she’s on her back on the bed, Harvey’s fingers inside her, his eyes trained on her with an expression of concern in them that Rachel has no faith in whatsoever. She moans and rocks against his beautiful hand. “I can’t date him—I certainly can’t sleep with him—while I’m...seeing you.”

“It’s okay,” Harvey whispers into her ear. “You care about him too much. That’s not a bad thing.”

She’s grateful that he isn’t wasting any more time on foreplay and is putting a condom on already; she turns onto her side and he slots himself behind her, slides inside her with a sigh. “But you wanted me to. And I wanted to do it for you.”

“It’s not just about what you and I want, Rachel. We need to look out for Mike too. You made the right call.”

“I’m sorry,” she gasps. “We can still talk about him.”

“Okay,” Harvey says. God he feels good. “Tell me about the date.”

She leans her head back against his shoulder and he sucks on her neck. “He kissed me at the end of it.”

His thrusts get harder. He likes that. “Was it good?”

“Yes.”

They get sidetracked then, and instead of telling Harvey about the date, they have an enthusiastically filthy question and answer session wherein she tells him all the things she’d be doing with Mike right now had her conscience not got the better of her. It gets Harvey so worked up he has to stop moving and pull out so he doesn’t come before she does. Rachel sniggers, says, “Such a gentleman.”

Then he makes her come, with his fingers inside her and his palm on her clit, voice in her ear asking her how much she wants Mike’s cock in her mouth, how much she wants Mike to come all over her, how much she needs him inside her, I bet you’d like us both inside you at the same time, Mike’s cock in your pussy, my cock in your ass—

_Oh God_

She slumps into the bed a boneless sprawl, barely conscious of Harvey straddling her and tugging on his cock until he comes all over her breasts. 

~

Things are developing. That’s two nights in a row spent in Harvey’s bed, and walking out of his condo at 11am on a Sunday morning feels familiar in a way that’s disconcerting. 

Holy shit.

She’s seeing Harvey.

The way he kisses her goodbye. The way she kisses back.

“Can I see you again?” he says, eyes searching her face.

If she says yes she’s making a commitment to Harvey, which means ending things with Mike. Exciting fantasy aside, she can’t be that person. She won’t be. Mike is the best guy she knows and she can’t even imagine hurting him the way it would hurt him should he ever find out about this. She should say no to Harvey right now for that reason alone - this whole thing is a betrayal of a person they both care about; not only would it crush Mike, it would destroy his relationship with them both, possibly permanently. Even if he could get past it, forgive them, it would change things so much. She’d surely lose him as a friend. 

And Harvey...the guy clearly needs Mike in his life. Rachel doesn’t want to think too hard about Harvey’s unresolved Mike feelings, but she’s not blind (or deaf) - Mike is extremely important to him. 

It’s suicide. This whole thing is relationship suicide. But Harvey’s eyes are so intense she can’t look away, and his face... His damn face is so handsome she wants to look at him every chance she gets, she wants him looking at her... “You can see me any time you want.”

He takes her face in his hands and kisses her. “Good.”

They don’t make any solid plans but it’s there, hanging in the air between them: possibility, the future, genuine emotion. 

Harvey likes Rachel and Rachel likes Harvey.

~

So she breaks it off with Mike. 

Monday morning, she tracks him to the copy room, and when he sees her his face lights up. She needs to make him stop looking at her like that as quickly as possible because it’s killing her. She’s quick and ruthless. She tells him she can’t do it, she can’t date him, she’s too scared, she loves working with him too much and she can’t bring herself to risk losing him as a friend, she’s so very sorry but it’s her final decision, and when she walks away from him, his hurt, horrified expression burned into her brain, she feels like shit. She feels like the biggest bitch in the world, but even though she might be in love with him and hurting him is the absolute worst...it’s still the right thing to do.

Harvey is her priority now. She isn’t sure why or how, or when it’s all going to fall apart, but this is the reality she finds herself in. Being with Mike now would mean shutting off all these feelings, and she can’t...they’re not going away, she can’t will them away just because they’re inconvenient, or because they’re unexpected, unpredictable or complicated. She has feelings for Harvey and they appear to be reciprocated, if not advisable, or even remotely rooted in the healthy prospect of an actual future. Pretending the feelings don’t exist won’t get her anywhere; she needs to let this play out. She might regret taking this route, sure, but she’ll definitely regret not taking it. 

She sees Harvey on Wednesday night, and then on Friday night, and then again on Sunday night. The sex is amazing and Mike is a staple of their vocal fantasy life. The Mike stuff is getting dirtier too - he’s always the subject of the climactic conversation, so to speak, and on Friday Rachel brings up the possibility of Harvey having sex with Mike. She waits until Harvey is at his most aroused.

“Do you want to fuck him?” 

He tips his head back, closes his eyes and lets out a wry laugh. “I dunno. Maybe. Would you like me to?”

“I would enjoy watching that, yeah.”

After which Harvey gets into it, and by Sunday night they’re openly talking to each other about all the things they’d like to do with Mike in bed.

This is officially the weirdest relationship Rachel’s ever been in.

~

He starts calling her during the day at work, just to check in. His calls are the highlight of her day. He’s usually out and about somewhere, she can often hear the rumble of traffic in the background, he’s walking and he finally has a moment to himself and he’s thinking about her and how’s your day going and a wisecrack or three about whatever case she’s working on or meeting he’s heading to, and the attention he gives her, the sheer fucking _romance_ of all this calling her for no reason whatsoever, leaves her giddy with joy. 

It’s only been a couple weeks but she’s already crazy in love with him in a way she has absolutely no control over. It’s scaring the shit out of her. Making life glorious. She feels helpless and happy and like screaming from the rooftops. She keeps expecting it to end but then another day happens and he’s still interested, he still wants her, he still calls her. 

But happiness like this never lasts. 

~

Rachel should have seen it coming. She kind of did see it coming but she didn’t let herself worry about it when she should have and now their asses are being chomped.

Harvey comes to her office on Thursday and recruits her services for a case he’s working on. He’d never normally task Rachel himself—that’s what Mike is for—but he wanted an excuse to see her and Rachel’s far too pleased about that to warn him off. He’s in her office, flicking through files with her under the guise of research, for longer than is probably wise, so of course Mike finds them together. Of course they get caught.

Mike enters her office wearing a confused frown. “There you are,” he says to Harvey. “What are you doing?”

“You weren’t around and I needed something done. Where have you been?”

Huh. Harvey is not only good at lying, he’s good at seamlessly turning a conversation around to his benefit.

“Rounding up a witness for you. You know Rachel and I are cool right, Harvey?” Mike checks with her. “We’re cool right?”

Rachel nods. “Yuh.”

“You don’t have to play go between,” he says to Harvey. “I’m okay.”

Keeping the smile pasted on her face requires an excruciating amount of effort. Mike is under the impression that Harvey is there to...protect him from having to see Rachel, because Rachel hurt him so much when she dumped him after one date. Mike thinks Harvey is being a good friend.

God.

“I know,” Harvey says, like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. “She’s helping me prep for the Peterson deposition, which you should’ve been doing, only you weren’t here. I’ll be done in a minute, meet me in my office in ten.” Mike’s nodding at him. “And don’t be late - Peterson’s due in an hour.”

When the door shuts behind Mike, Rachel gives Harvey an incredulous look.

“You scare me.”

“Necessity is the mother of a convincing lie.”

“That is not the quote.”

“Close enough.” He stands up, buttons his jacket. “See you tonight?” 

“Yep,” she says, smiling up at him. “Can’t wait.”

“Me too.”

And then he’s gone. 

~

Mike catches them together again the following week, on Wednesday afternoon, in Harvey’s office. 

Harvey calls her and asks her to bring him some files that are supposedly relevant to a case he’s working on, although Rachel knows the connection is flimsy; this is an excuse to see her. The risk of it only makes it more enticing, so Rachel hurries up to Harvey’s office, files in hand, stops to chat with Donna for five minutes, then heads into the office. 

“Where do you want them?” she asks, brandishing the files at Harvey.

Harvey nods his head. “On the table. How are you?”

“Good,” she says, smiling at him. “Very much looking forward to going out for dinner tonight.”

“Oh yeah? Who’s the lucky guy?”

“You don’t know him. He’s in a motorcycle gang; he’s the leader of it actually; and on his left bicep he’s got a tattoo of a red love-heart with an arrow through it and my name inside.”

“What’s he got on his right bicep?”

“I dunno, something about his mother. I don’t care about that one.” 

Harvey laughs. “He sounds like quite the catch.”

“Well, not really, but it doesn’t matter because I’m just using him for sex.”

Harvey’s still laughing when the door to his office opens and Mike walks in, head tilted and eyes narrowed, his lips pursed in bemusement.

“What’s...” his eyes shift back and forth between them, his words come out hesitantly.“...so funny?”

“What?” Harvey spreads his hands. “Your girlfriend’s hilarious.” 

That’s the moment Harvey took it a step too far. It’s too incorrect, too cruel, too lame to be a convincing cover. Harvey might sound innocent but his words give him away and Rachel has no idea what she looks like right now but she’s giving them away too, because Mike’s expression is darkening as the truth dawns on him, as he looks from Rachel to Harvey, Harvey to Rachel. He saw it, he saw something, he picked it up from Harvey’s words and Rachel’s guilty face, and he’s figuring it out, he’s putting it together with what he walked in on the other day, he’s remembering the other day perfectly and realizing he’d misconstrued the situation entirely, and it’s all happening right now, in front of Rachel, because Mike’s quick, he doesn’t miss a goddamn beat, he knows. 

Mike knows about Rachel and Harvey. 

His voice is quiet and hard. “Okay.” His eyes lose focus. “Oh Jesus.” He shuts them and his head falls forward. He swallows, lifts his chin, does not make eye contact with either of them as he blows out a slow, determined breath, and then he twitches, as if shaking off whatever unpleasant emotion he’s feeling.

“Mike,” Rachel says, and she can hear the desperation in her voice but she has no idea what to even say next.

It doesn’t matter. Mike walks out of the office without another word.

“Oh God,” Rachel whispers. “Oh no.” She looks over at Harvey, whose jaw is clenched so tight he must be in pain. “Harvey.”

“It’ll be okay,” he says.

Rachel wants badly just to fall to her knees and start crying, but she needs to keep it together. “I have to go talk to him,” she says. Her mind is foggy, and she’s in no fit state to form a workable plan, but she knows she needs to see Mike, make this right. Apologize. Beg forgiveness. Something. She has to do something. 

“Let him cool off. I’ll take care of it.”

“Harvey,” she says, it’s almost a sob. All she wants right now is for Harvey to take her in his arms and keep promising her it’ll all be okay, but it’s not possible and it’s not fair. 

“You should go back to your office,” Harvey says. “I’ll see you later?”

Rachel nods. “Yeah.” She turns to leave.

And there’s Donna, standing by her desk staring at them, looking utterly appalled.

“Fuck,” Rachel whispers. 

She walks quickly and keeps her eyes averted, doesn’t say a word to Donna as she passes her.

~

Dinner that night with Harvey is more subdued than normal. There’s not a lot of laughter or flirting, and they stick to one painful topic: Mike. Harvey plans to talk with Mike first thing in the morning, but Rachel isn’t convinced his approach will be successful - he has no intention of discussing Rachel with him, other than to say it wasn’t planned, he’s truly sorry, but there’s no reason it should interfere with their working relationship.

“Are you kidding me?” Rachel says. “Mike won’t accept that. You’re more than just a boss to him, Harvey. You’re his friend. And let’s not forget about your feelings for him.” Harvey grimaces, like he was hoping she wouldn’t remind him about that. “You have to be gentle. You have to let him talk about how pissed he is, or he’ll never be able to move past it.”

She intends to talk to Mike herself, but not right away. She wants Harvey to test the waters first and report back to her so she knows what to expect. 

“Just—” she starts. “Just let him know you care about him and the last thing you wanted to do was hurt him.”

They spend the night together, and while the sex is only a temporary distraction from the guilt and shame threatening to overwhelm Rachel, it’s as mind-bendingly good as ever. For the first time since they started sleeping together, they don’t bring Mike into their sex talk other than to assure each other that he’ll forgive them.

~

Harvey updates Rachel on the situation by phone just before lunch. 

“It didn’t go well,” he says. “I recommend you steer clear of him for the rest of the week.”

Rachel’s heart sinks and she finds she’s unable to respond. 

“He feels betrayed,” Harvey says. “But we knew that already. I tried to talk about what you suggested but he wasn’t interested. He insisted we stick to the topic of work, he has no intention of listening to either of us explain ourselves, not yet anyway. And he pretty much wishes I were dead right now.” His tone is light but Rachel understands his torment. She feels it too.

~

Mike manages to avoid Rachel for another whole week, and even though having Harvey in her life makes the situation more bearable, she finds herself missing Mike intensely. She gets updates from Harvey, but none of them are particularly promising - he’s treating Harvey with polite civility and he’s doing great work, but his anger doesn’t appear to be in any danger of abating. Harvey pretends not to be worried about it, but Rachel can tell it’s eating away at him.

So when she spots Mike standing at the elevators on her floor, she takes a deep breath, ignores the pounding of her heart, and walks over to him.

He greets her with a glare.

“Can we talk?”

He shakes his head and turns away from her, focusing his gaze on the screen above the elevator as it counts up its way towards them. “No.”

“Mike, please. I need to explain.”

He turns back to her, his blue eyes dull and frosty. “I don’t care what you need. You’re fucking my boss. My mentor. The one person in the entire world that I would have hoped and expected and preferred you _not_ to fuck. How could you? That’s a rhetorical question by the way. I don’t even wanna know.”

“It’s not what you think, okay?” she says desperately. “Please let me explain. Please don’t let this destroy everything we have. If you had any idea how important you are to me. And to Harvey.”

She can see him gritting his teeth. He doesn’t like her speaking for Harvey, or probably even hearing her mention Harvey’s name. He’s breathing hard through his nose, staring off to the side, and then he looks her right in the eye. “You’ll tell me the truth?”

“Yes. I’ll tell you everything.” Well, maybe not everything. 

She’ll probably leave out the bit where she and Harvey talk about him every time they fuck.

“Not here,” he says. “I don’t want to talk here. Meet me at our usual spot in the park in an hour.” The elevator arrives at that moment and Mike steps into it without another glance at Rachel.

She’s relieved he’s given her a bit of time to regain her composure and properly plan how she’ll approach the conversation. If she messes this up...but no. She can’t, she won’t be defeatist; he’ll come around, because he has to.

~

They sit side by side on their favorite park bench watching an athletic-looking blond man play Frisbee with his black Labrador. Rachel starts talking without attempting to make eye contact with Mike. 

She tells Mike that it just happened. She’d never even given Harvey a second thought until that day. The Monday after she left Mike the phone message, she was freaking out about how he’d respond to it, she was regretting drunk dialing him, scared about what it would mean for them given the Jenny situation and her own doubts, and she ended up walking home, going to a bar, running into Harvey. 

He interrupts her. “So it started before you and I went on our date.”

She was expecting him to make that connection and she nods. Full disclosure is the only way this will work, because if she lies he’ll find out. It’d be just her luck for him to find out and hold it against her, and she can’t afford to give him any more ammunition. Better to rip the bandage off now, get all the hurting out of the way now, and then he can start to heal, and there won’t be any infection because if she’s honest the wound will be clean.

“I thought it would be a one night stand, but then...I saw him again, the night before our date. I was going to cancel on you but Harvey told me not to, because he didn’t want to stand in the way of us.”

Mike’s laugh is bitter and contains no trace of amusement. 

“It’s not his fault, Mike. He left it up to me, and ultimately I realized I had to choose between you. I decided to go out with you that night, and then I decided not to go home with you; and then I decided to break it off with you. Not because I wanted to choose Harvey over you, but because as much as I wanted— _want_ —to be with you, I knew I wouldn’t be able to stay away from him.”

“So he’s your boyfriend now?”

Rachel turns her head and looks Mike in the eye. “I don’t know what he is.”

“Well,” Mike says, standing up. “Thanks for your honesty.”

She gazes up at him imploringly. “Mike. Can you ever forgive me?”

There’s so much hurt and fury to be read in the knit of his eyebrows that Rachel feels a wave of despair crash through her. “I’m so sorry,” she says, hanging her head and covering her eyes with her hand. “I’m so, so sorry. Please don’t hate me.”

When she looks back up at him his expression has softened. “I don’t hate you,” he says quietly, before turning around and walking away from her.

She sits on the bench, watching the blond man and his dog, and allows herself the luxury of letting her agony get the better of her for a few moments. She weeps as discreetly as possible, dries her eyes, goes back to the office.

~

Mike continues to avoid her as much as possible at work, although occasionally they’re forced together by circumstance, because Louis doesn’t give a shit about personal conflict in the office unless he’s the one creating it, and finds it more amusing than anything else to nurture any awkwardness between Rachel and Mike. But Mike’s not ready to be near her for any extended period of time, so while he’s back to being his friendly self when they work together, the moment he’s gotten what he needs from her he’s out the door. 

Things cool off a bit with Harvey too - after her talk with Mike in the park, she sees him only once over the course of the next week, on Saturday night. They have a great night, and again avoid mentioning Mike when they’re in bed together, but after she leaves him on Sunday morning, neither of them makes any attempt or effort to see each other. Until Friday, when Harvey stops by her office.

“I need you to come over tonight.”

That’s an odd way to phrase it. Rachel raises her eyebrows at him and waits for him to explain himself.

“I convinced Mike to come and join us for dinner.”

Rachel does a double-take. “What? Why would you—” She’s officially flabbergasted. “And why would he _agree_?”

“I can be very persuasive. Can you make it for eight?”

“Yeah, but.” She stares at Harvey in bewilderment. “What are you hoping to achieve with this dinner?”

“I want to show him that he can be around us and it doesn’t have to be uncomfortable. I want him to understand that he’s as important to us as we are to each other.”

That makes a twisted kind of sense, Rachel supposes. She nods. “I guess it’s worth a try.”

“Great. We’ll order in some food, drink some wine, and watch a movie.”

Rachel purses her lips in an attempt to hide her smile.

“What?”

“Sounds a lot like a date.”

Harvey narrows his eyes at her and says, “Except it won’t be a date because there’s three of us. Friends do all those things too, you know.”

“Oh, so now he’s our friend?”

“Get your mind out of the gutter, Zane. I’ll see you tonight.”

“Whatever you say, Specter,” she says, feeling for the first time since Mike discovered them that all might not be lost after all. She has no clue what Harvey’s real intentions are, but whatever they are she’s on board with them. 

~

As Rachel gets ready for her evening with Harvey and Mike she has a debate with herself about whether to turn up early or late. 

If she gets there before Mike it’ll be to establish herself as a fixture in Harvey’s life; it’ll send the message that she and Harvey are a couple who are entertaining Mike together. She will be Harvey’s co-host, his partner, his girlfriend, and Mike will be their guest. The benefits of presenting themselves as a united front are as follows: it’s honest and straightforward; Mike won’t feel like they’re playing him; and the sooner he’s exposed to the reality of their relationship the sooner he’ll accept it. The downside of this option, and it’s a big one, is that it could be painful and uncomfortable for Mike. 

If she turns up late, if she ensures she arrives after Mike, then Mike will have a chance to get comfortable, Harvey will have a chance to put him at ease, and then it’ll be like Rachel is their guest, and Mike and Harvey are the co-hosts. It’s a little crafty maybe, but ultimately kinder to Mike, and that’s the most important thing. So she lets Harvey know her decision via text and asks him to text her the moment Mike arrives.

Deciding what to wear is a challenge. She wants to be casual enough for a night in in front of the TV, but sexy enough to please both men, and she changes several times before settling on a short, black, scoop-neck t-shirt dress with low-heeled, calf-length, lace-up boots. It’s a different look from the office attire that Mike’s used to, but it’s also the perfect combination of comfy and sexy. She hopes he likes it.

Eight o’clock comes and goes and Rachel starts feeling anxious. At a quarter past she calls Harvey to find out what’s going on.

Harvey answers the phone with, “He’s not here yet. Don’t worry, I’ll let you know when he arrives.” He sounds both amused and irritated, but Rachel is pretty sure the amusement is directed at her and the irritation at Mike. 

“Do you think he’s late on purpose?”

“Nah, the kid has never been on time for anything in his life. He’ll be here soon.”

Waiting by the phone is an ordeal at the best of times, but at a time like this, when there’s so much at stake, the frustration is maddening. The text doesn’t come until 8.45 (it reads simply: _he’s here_ ), and Rachel breathes out in relief, but then her nervousness returns in a rush, twisting in her gut and making her heart pound. 

The cab takes forever to arrive.

She doesn’t reach Harvey’s place until 9.30, standing at his door, waiting for him to answer her knock, and she’s gripped by a swirl of conflicting emotions. She’s nervous and worried, but also intrigued and hopeful. The night contains a wealth of possibility, and while it could all go wrong, while it could make everything worse instead of better, it could also, equally, be...wonderful. It could be a dream come true.

She can’t shake the memories of her most intimate conversations with Harvey, she can’t pretend it hasn’t occurred to her...she can’t deny that it must have occurred to Harvey too. 

When Mike answers the door instead of Harvey she’s so taken aback her entire vocabulary vanishes in an instant and she just stands there, frozen on the spot, gaping at him like an idiot. He looks good: freshly showered, hair styled in his signature artful tousle, dressed in a dark gray t-shirt and dark blue jeans. Rachel breathes in the familiar scent of his cologne and smiles at him. 

His answering smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “Nice of you to join us.” 

Being welcomed into Harvey’s house by Mike is so surreal it throws her off balance; when Rachel had concocted her plan to come late so it would create the impression in Mike’s head that he and Harvey were co-hosting, she hadn’t expected it to turn out so literally. 

“How come you’re so late?” He stands aside to let her in, and Rachel walks past him, her skin prickling hot with nerves, and embarrassment (and potential), and she hopes her blush isn’t visible under Harvey’s soft lighting scheme. 

“Where’s...?”

“Bathroom,” Mike replies. “I didn’t wanna leave you hanging out there.”

There’s something unmistakably hostile in Mike’s demeanor. Not like he doesn’t want to be here; more like...he’s relishing her discomfort.

She puts her bag on the kitchen counter and lays her coat on the nearest stool, as Harvey returns to the fold. 

“Good timing,” Harvey says. He’s dressed casual in a midnight blue shirt with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows—Rachel can’t help but let her gaze linger on his beautiful forearms—untucked over black pants. He looks fucking hot and Rachel feels a mild pinch of bitterness about the fact that she can’t give him a proper greeting kiss. “The food arrived five minutes ago.” He pours her a glass of red wine—he and Mike are drinking bottles of beer—and hands it to her. 

There is an extensive array of Chinese food sitting in cartons on the counter in front of them. Rachel realizes at that moment that she has absolutely no appetite.

“Hope you’re both hungry,” Harvey says, picking up some chopsticks and a carton of noodles. “Dig in.” Harvey doesn’t wait for Mike or Rachel, he just stands in the kitchen with his noodles in one hand, chopsticks in the other, and starts eating. Mike shrugs and follows his lead, and Rachel finds herself impressed by Harvey’s choices. He’s created a relaxed, informal environment in which table manners aren’t required, and at least Mike’s eating, at least he isn’t picking a fight or walking out before they break bread. He’s here, he’s drinking, he’s eating, and thus he’s not as resistant to the purpose of this evening as Rachel feared he might be. The atmosphere is not exactly bursting with energy at this particular moment in time, Mike’s bitterness a heavy weight on them all. He’s not happy and both Rachel and Harvey know it. But the fact that he’s here and he’s staying means he doesn’t want to keep feeling that way. 

Rachel hasn’t eaten anything since lunchtime and her stomach is empty; it’s incredibly inconvenient that she’s not hungry.

Taking a seat at the counter next to Mike, she tries not to look at him too often because whenever she does he’s got his cool, distrustful stare trained either on her or on Harvey. She forces herself to eat some chicken and rice but, delicious as it is, she struggles to swallow it down, so after a while she abandons her food and concentrates instead on her Cabernet Sauvignon, which is going down a dream. 

Harvey ignores Mike’s bellicose mood, expertly drawing him into a conversation about horror movies that Mike has far too many opinions about to resist joining. Soon they’re engaged in some easy, humorous banter that seems so natural and right, the chemistry between them almost palpable, that Rachel gains new insight into the cost of her and Harvey’s actions. The stakes aren’t high simply because Harvey doesn’t want to lose Mike. The feeling is absolutely mutual. She’s been so busy worrying about what she and Harvey could lose she forgot that Mike has just as much at stake; and seeing him here tonight, laughing at Harvey’s jokes—albeit with a slight reluctance: she spots the flicker of annoyance on his face every time he lets his guard down and Harvey sneaks inside—she understands that Mike’s as scared of this relationship being over as Harvey is. 

It makes sense. They have something special. Harvey is the best friend Mike’s ever had, and the way Harvey feels about Mike... Well.

There’s no other word for it but Love.

Harvey’s feelings for Mike run deeper than he’ll ever admit but Rachel has seen it. She’s even nurtured it. She’ll do whatever it takes to make this situation work because it has to; no way can she be the thing that comes between these two.

Rachel doesn’t care for horror films herself so doesn’t contribute much to the conversation. But when the two of them start bickering over which is the best horror film ever made, with Harvey championing _The Exorcist_ and Mike _The Shining_ , Mike turns to her and says, “What do you think Rach?”

She feels a flush of pleasure at his affectionate address. “Much as I’d love to take sides in this very important debate, I’m afraid I haven’t seen either film, so. No can do.”

“ _What_?” Harvey and Mike say in unison. 

“This is not acceptable,” Mike says, shaking his head. “Harvey.”

“I agree with Mike. You need to see _The Exorcist_ right now.”

“Except _The Shining_ is better, so she should watch that first.”

Harvey looks pleased. “Fine. As you’re my guest I’ll let you choose the film. And as luck would have it I own _The Shining_ on DVD.”

The relaxed expression on Mike’s face has disappeared and has been replaced with a suspicious frown. “We’re watching a movie tonight? Here?”

Harvey’s nod is confident. His “yeah” leaves no room for argument. Mike and Rachel will do as Harvey says and tonight they’re all having dinner together like this isn’t the most fucked up situation ever and then they’ll watch a film together in Harvey’s TV room and the only concession Harvey will make is that Mike gets to pick the film. Apparently Rachel doesn’t get a say, but actually if she’s going to be forced to watch a scary movie, no better place than here and now, with not just one, but two, extremely attractive men to hide behind when she gets frightened.

Rachel helps Harvey clear up while Mike sits and watches them. She can feel his eyes on her as she moves around the kitchen and she wonders if he’s deliberately trying to make her nervous. 

Because if he is it’s working. She feels unusually shy, preferring to hang back and let Harvey and Mike keep the conversation going—they’re still bickering about movies—piping up occasionally but mostly feeling too self conscious under Mike’s hostile gaze to relax. That same gaze creating an unsettling disconnect, as he chats away to Harvey like he hasn’t a care in the world. Harvey is such a consummate player that he doesn’t react at all to Mike’s prickly front, only to the friendliness that Mike is faking. And the technique is effectively wearing down Mike defenses, because Harvey is so good at getting Mike caught up in a moment that those moments are happening with more frequency as the night unfolds. 

Harvey tops up Rachel’s glass and pours a glass for both himself and Mike, then he picks up the bottle in one hand, his glass in the other, and nods in the direction of the TV room. “Come on.” 

He leads the way and Rachel and Mike follow him, walking side by side. She turns to Mike with a smile. “Are you having a good time?”

Mike meets her gaze and for once his eyes are free of animosity. “I am, actually.”

“I’m so glad you’re here,” she says, and she hopes he can see on her face just how much she means that. 

He nods. “Me too. I really want to...forgive you.”

They stop walking when they reach the door of the TV room and they stand beneath its frame, Mike staring down at her, into her eyes. 

“I hope you can,” Rachel says. “I don’t want to lose you.”

Harvey is in the room and can hear their conversation but he moves quietly and stays silent, as he retrieves the DVD from the tall black cabinet where his extensive DVD collection dwells, and gets the movie set up. 

“I don’t wanna lose you either.”

With the way the furniture in the room is arranged, the only decent seat to watch the TV from is the two-seater couch. It’s big enough for the three of them but it’ll be a cozy fit. Rachel stares at the couch and feels a quiet stirring of arousal. She sees what Harvey’s doing. 

Mike sits first, slotting himself against the right armrest, Rachel slides in next to him, her bottom positioned directly on top of the crease between the seat cushions; Harvey sits next to her. It’s a roomy couch so it’s not an uncomfortable squeeze by any means, but there’s almost no space between her thighs and the thighs of her companions, which means for the next two hours she’ll be in constant body contact with Mike. 

He kicks off his sneakers and puts his feet up on the coffee table, so Rachel follows suit and takes off her boots. She’s wearing long, thick, black socks and no tights, and her dress is short enough that she’s suddenly acutely aware of how much thigh she’s showing, and that if it rides up any higher the guys will be able to see the hot pink satin panties she’s wearing. 

The movie starts. Rachel finds it difficult to concentrate. All she can think about is Mike’s leg, jammed up against hers, and Harvey’s hand, resting on her upper thigh, the gentle caress of his thumb and fingers stoking the flames of her desire. His touch is blatant and sexual: Harvey wants Rachel turned on and he wants Mike to see. She can tell the moment Mike notices what Harvey’s doing because she feels him tense up, and Rachel has to make it right, she has to make Mike feel like it’s okay to be here and that he isn’t being left out, so she parts her thighs a little to press her right against Mike’s left. She’s giving him no room to move, no reason to escape. 

It does the trick. Mike shifts in his seat, and presses back.

Arousal notwithstanding, Rachel is surprised to find the film absorbing. It’s eerie and intense, and as Jack Nicholson gets increasingly crazy, genuinely terrifying. But the experience of watching it is made ten times better by the experience of sitting on the couch between Mike and Harvey. Harvey’s hand has slipped further into the crevice between her thighs, his pinky finger stroking her clit through her drenched panties, while Rachel rests her own hand on Mike’s thigh. She’d let it fall there earlier when she’d wanted his attention - he’d turned to her and she smiled at him, just to show him how happy she is that he’s there, and he’d smiled back and with the barest of movement, flexed his thigh into her touch. 

Jack Nicholson is trying to kill his wife and son. 

Rachel is scared and aroused. She glances at Mike and sees him staring between her legs at Harvey’s hand, now cupping her mound, his talented fingers stroking her exactly right, her dress ridden up so high she’s on display, and Mike can’t tear his eyes away.

Jack Nicholson has an axe and he’s chopping through the bathroom door, and it’s terrifying so Rachel covers her eyes with her hand and turns her face into Mike’s shoulder. He responds by pulling his left arm free and wrapping it around her, drawing her against his chest, and it’s easy and natural to let her hand slide down into the heat between his thighs. 

Harvey’s hand is covering a lot more territory now - all over her pussy, inner thighs and belly, and when Rachel turns her head to check on him he’s watching her and Mike intently. 

She turns back to Mike and he stares into her eyes, whispers, “You scared?”

She nods.

“It’s okay. It’s just a movie.” He leans down and kisses her on the mouth.

Oh God.

He kissed her. 

In front of Harvey. 

He knows exactly what’s going on and he’s okay with it. 

She leans up and kisses him back, and this time they get into it. Mike gets _really_ into it, aggressively licking into her mouth, and that’s Mike’s hand sliding up the inside of her right thigh, not stopping until it meets the resistance of Harvey’s hand. 

So Harvey takes his hand away and Mike immediately replaces it with his own, and he rubs her harder than Harvey did, hitting that line between pain and pleasure with such perfect precision Rachel has to yank her face away from Mike’s hungry mouth just to gasp. She finds Harvey reclining against the left arm of couch, watching them.

Mike’s hand grips the back of her head, pulling it back around so he can kiss her again, and now he’s shifting around in his seat to get closer to her, to kiss her harder, wetter, deeper, his hand slipping into her panties and fingers stabbing inside her, aggressive, dominant...

Angry.

And as fast as he dove right into it, he stops, extracting his fingers and drawing his head back, staring at her with suspicious, contemptuous eyes. “What is this?” he asks her.

Rachel shakes her head. “I dunno.” She offers him a wry smile. “It feels right.”

There’s the barest hint of a laugh there, and then Mike focuses his gaze on Harvey. “And what about you? Do you wanna have sex with me too, or are you just here to watch?”

Harvey’s smile is small and enigmatic, and it’s the only answer Mike gets. Harvey has no intention of showing Mike his hand yet, not while they’re still raising the stakes.

“Come on, Harvey,” Mike says, grabbing the sides of Rachel’s dress and tugging it upwards, urging her to sit up and raise her arms into the air so he can pull the dress off her and toss it onto the floor behind the couch. “If you’re willing to do it—which you clearly are—you should be able to say it.”

Harvey’s smile widens. “I’m only willing to do it if it’s consensual.” Pause. “Whatever you want.”

“Really.” Mike says, a faint trace of mocking in his smile. “Whatever I want. Wow. So I get to choose how involved you are.”

“Yes.”

Instead of answering Harvey, Mike kisses Rachel again, pulls her into his arms and hauls her on top of him; she straddles his lap and slides forward until her pussy meets his cock, making them both shudder. Rachel grabs hold of the hem of his t-shirt and yanks it up, and he raises his arms in the air to help her. And there they are, Mike naked from the waist up, Rachel in her hot pink lingerie and long black socks, and she’s sitting in his lap and riding the bulge in his jeans, slow, easy and _good_.

He runs his hands up and down her back but he’s looking side-on at Harvey. Rachel follows his gaze and her heart swells at the sight: sprawled on the couch with his legs spread and his gaze on them unwavering. He isn’t touching himself but his pose invites it, demands it, makes Rachel ache to feel his hardness against her palm; he’s relaxed and focused, confident and sensual. He’s a man who knows how attractive he is, who knows how to get what he wants, who can’t be resisted. 

But there’s the question of Mike’s sexual orientation. Is he straight and simply attempting to challenge Harvey’s dominance? Or does he swing both ways, like Harvey? If he doesn’t, or hasn’t before, is he open to the possibility? 

Does he have an interest in gratifying Harvey’s lust beyond letting him watch? 

“You are crossing so many ethical lines here Harvey I don’t even know where to start,” Mike says to him as he unhooks Rachel’s bra. “What if I don’t want to have sex with you and I’m going along with it because I think it’s the only way I can be with Rachel? Wouldn’t that mean you’ve coerced me into this situation? By using your girlfriend, who also happens to be your subordinate at work? And let’s not forget I’m your subordinate too. What kind of man makes these kinds of choices, Harvey?”

Harvey shows no signs of weakness or doubt; he merely rolls his eyes. “I told you already I’m not interested unless I know it’s consensual.”

The atmosphere in the room is charged and tense, but Rachel doesn’t stop rocking her hips. 

Mike doesn’t stop grilling them. “Did you two plan this?”

Rachel shakes her head and tells him no, but it feels like a lie. She and Harvey might not have discussed it with each other but an unspoken plan is still a plan. She came here knowing this could happen; she came here wanting this to happen. 

Mike is pushing Rachel’s panties down over her ass and palming, squeezing her ass cheeks. “Harvey, did you plan this?”

“Not as such,” Harvey replies. 

“Then how did you know you both wanted it?”

Rachel leans down and kisses him so she doesn’t have to answer.

But he won’t stop. “Have you two talked about this? Do you talk about me?”

“Of course,” Rachel says, throwing her head back as Mike bends his head and sucks on one of her nipples, twisting it in his teeth to the point of pain. “We talk about you all the time.”

“All the time?” He stands up, lifting Rachel with him and setting her down on the floor. “Take ‘em off,” he says, nodding at her panties. She peels them down her thighs and steps out of them, dropping them in a damp tangle on the floor, and then she takes off her socks because it seems absurd to leave them on when she’s otherwise stark naked. She’s the only one of them that’s naked, but Mike’s pushing his jeans down too, stepping out of them, pulling off his socks, kicking the pile of clothes to the side. He’s wearing boxer briefs that do nothing to conceal his arousal and oh she wants to see it, she wants to see it and touch it and taste it so badly. 

Reaching out, she hooks her fingers into the sides of his underwear, easing them down over his hips, mesmerized, as she knows Harvey must be, by the sight of Mike’s cock springing up to attention. He has nothing to be shy about in that department - his cock is long, thick and very hard and Rachel can’t help but feel that it’s a fortunate thing his size is comparable to Harvey’s. She can hardly wait until he’s inside her. He sits down again and she climbs back astride him, sliding against his erection, her eyes fixed on his face. His pupils are dilated but his eyes aren’t entirely focused. Apparently his mind still is.

“Do you talk about me while you’re fucking?” Mike says. “Is that how you knew you both wanted this?”

Rachel looks to see Harvey’s reaction to Mike’s freakish display of mind-reading, but he looks unperturbed. And aroused. Staring between their bodies, as they fuck without fucking, Rachel so slippery Mike’s cock shines with her desire. She wants nothing more than to take him into her body right now, just lift up on her knees and sink down on his cock, welcome him inside, and the last thing in the world she cares about right now is that it would be unsafe. If anything that makes her want to do it more.

“Harvey,” Mike says, voice a breathless whisper. “Can you get us a condom?”

Well at least they’re nearly on the same page. Maybe he senses her desperation but either way Mike wants inside her as soon as possible, and he’s apparently a lot more sensible than Rachel is when he’s aroused. Harvey stands up and leaves the room without another word, and Rachel stares into Mike’s eyes, running her palms up and down his chest.

“This is so fucked up,” Mike murmurs. “This can’t end well, you know that right?”

“Why are you doing it then?”

“Because I want to. Because I’m pissed. Because fucking you two has to be better than hating you.”

“Does that mean those two things are mutually exclusive?”

“Not yet,” Mikes says with a grin. “I still hate you both.” 

Rachel leans in and whispers into his ear. “I want you inside me.”

“Me too,” he whispers back.

“And what about Harvey? How do you feel about him?”

“Are you asking whether I want to have sex with him?”

“Yeah.”

It takes him a few seconds to respond. “I’m not sure. I guess I’m open to the idea?”

“Have you ever been with a man before?”

Mike shakes his head. “No.”

That’s when Harvey walks back into the room, and Rachel wonders if he caught the tail end of that conversation. He sits back on the couch and offers the condom to Mike, but instead of taking it Mike glances down at his cock and then back up at Harvey. This is apparently all the encouragement Harvey needs because he tells Rachel to move. 

Rachel climbs off Mike’s lap and he scooches over to the middle of the couch, as Harvey rips open the wrapper with his teeth and plucks out the condom. The way Mike reacts to Harvey rolling it down over his cock...like he doesn’t know where to look because he doesn’t want to miss anything—his gaze moves from Harvey’s hands on him, to Harvey’s face, to Rachel’s face, and then back to Harvey’s hands again. And then, almost as if it’s all gotten too much for him, he tips his head back and shuts his eyes, breathing out a long, shaky sigh.

When Harvey has completed his task he sits back, and Rachel climbs back into Mike’s lap and sinks down onto his cock, resting her forehead on Mike’s shoulder and moaning in grateful relief as he slowly fills her up. 

Harvey’s entranced, and turned on enough that he’s now stroking himself through his pants.

Screwing makes Rachel chatty, and this particular situation is far too complicated and far too fantastic, to keep her quiet. “Hey Harvey, did you know that Mike’s never been with a man before?”

“No kidding,” Harvey says. “It’s okay. I’m happy just to watch.”

Mike’s head lolls to the side, resting against the back of the couch as he focuses his dazed eyes on Harvey. “You don’t plan to fuck me then?”

Harvey shakes his head. “I’m not gonna fuck you.”

“What if I want you to?”

“I’m still not gonna do it.”

Mike turns his attention back to Rachel, smiling at her, holding her face in his hands and kissing her. “Suit yourself,” he says. 

Rachel’s getting concerned about the limitations of their environment. 

“We should move to the bedroom,” she suggests. “It’ll be more comfortable.”

“Good idea,” Harvey says, standing up. “Come on.”

As Rachel kneels up, Mike’s cock slips out of her, and she gasps...stills...stares at him...caught in a moment that connects them in its clarity: they are both well aware that this situation is fraught with danger, and they’re diving in anyway because they want it so badly the consequences don’t matter. 

She misses the sensation of him, she needs them to relocate as fast as possible so she can be with him again, she wants him inside her, she needs it...she takes Mike’s hand in her own and leads the way to Harvey’s bedroom. She and Mike are naked and Mike’s cock is hard and he’s still wearing a condom, while Harvey, fully dressed, follows them through the house, no doubt checking out their naked butts as they walk and counting his lucky stars. 

Instead of climbing onto the bed with them he stands beside it and watches while they get into position: Rachel lies on her back, spreads her legs and bends her knees, and Mike crawls up her body and slides into her in one swift motion. They find a slow, easy rhythm together, Rachel always aware of Harvey’s presence, as he moves around the bed, taking in the sight of them from every angle. 

Mike is good at sex in the same way Harvey is: he’s unselfconscious and sure of what he’s doing. And it appears he is the exhibitionist to Harvey’s voyeur, because when Harvey’s standing at the foot of the bed, Mike rolls them over so Rachel’s back on top, forcing Rachel’s legs even further apart by bending his knees and spreading his own legs as wide as possible. Ensuring that Harvey’s view is as graphic as possible. 

The bed dips. Rachel swivels her head to see Harvey sitting at the foot of it, head tilted and hooded eyes fixed on the movement between their legs. “Does it look good?” she asks him.

He nods, and it looks like he’s having trouble speaking, but eventually he says, “Yes.” And Harvey’s happy. It’s good that Harvey’s happy, it’s what Rachel wants. She wants both Harvey and Mike to enjoy this as much as she is.

“Harvey,” Mike says, his voice a breathless whisper.

“Yeah?”

“Why don’t you take off your clothes and come join us.”

Harvey doesn’t respond right away, but after a few moments he stands and walks around the bed and sits beside them, looking down at Mike, his expression serious. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”

Mike’s mouth curves into a crooked smile. “I’m sure.” 

Harvey starts to strip.

Rachel’s used to the sight of Harvey naked but Mike is not, so she can’t blame him for being captivated. You wouldn’t necessarily describe Harvey as buff, but he’s in good shape, and he has an impressively big cock, that, when revealed to them, causes Mike’s eyes to widen in alarm, or fear, or fascination, or bedazzlement, or a combination of all. 

Settling onto the bed next to them, Harvey begins to touch Rachel. Light, teasing fingers trail the length of her arm, he pushes back strands of hair sticking to her damp forehead, he leans up and kisses her on the mouth, interrupting her rhythm with Mike and making it impossible to concentrate on anything but his probing tongue. They part and Rachel finds Mike gazing at them, no longer angry because he’s part of them now and she knows the view was good. 

Harvey’s hand is on her ass and it’s sliding lower; when his fingers make contact with the entrance of her vagina Mike gasps, because Harvey’s seen the sight but now he’s feeling the action, he’s _feeling_ Mike entering Rachel, and this must be the first time a man has ever touched Mike down there. His face tells Rachel just how much he doesn’t have a problem with that.

“I want you to kiss him,” she says to Mike. “I wanna see you kiss him.”

Mike’s head is moving in a wobbly, rapid nod, and then it flops to the side, his cheek resting on the pillow and his eyes fixed on Harvey. Waiting. He’s agreed to be kissed and now he’s waiting for it to happen.

They’re not being felt up anymore - at least Mike isn’t. Harvey still has a hand on Rachel’s ass and a contemplative eye on Mike’s parted lips. 

“You wanna be kissed?” he asks Mike. 

“Yeah,” Mike replies. 

Harvey leans in and their mouths meet. 

The visual is quite lovely. 

Rachel sits up in Mike’s lap, barely moving now so she can focus on the sight of Harvey kissing Mike with such thoroughness she isn’t surprised when Mike reaches out a hand to grab a hold of Harvey’s neck, either in an attempt to keep Harvey in place or to steady himself. She catches a glimpse of their tongues colliding and it sends a bolt of electricity through her groin. Harvey’s roving hand is splayed flat on Mike’s chest, fingers digging into his flesh. 

The kiss is over but Mike is hungry for more, watching Harvey with a look almost anxious in its desire to have Harvey’s focus on him once again. But Harvey gives and withholds affection like any master worth his salt and pays no heed to Mike’s quiet but needy response to being kissed and abandoned. Harvey is putting on a condom. 

Who is he intending to fuck? Is Mike as curious about the answer to that question as Rachel? Is Mike scared?

Harvey kisses Mike again and says, “Would you like to watch me and Rachel for a while?”

Mike’s relief is palpable. He was scared. 

“Yeah,” Mike says, and Rachel gets off Mike and on Harvey, whose hips aren’t quite as narrow as Mike’s but her thighs are used to Harvey’s build and sinking down onto his cock feels like coming home. 

Mike does not sit back and watch the way Harvey did, he doesn’t stop touching either of them, his hands drawing a haphazard map upon Rachel’s body, or exploring the expanse of skin at Harvey’s chest, neck, face. He nuzzles Harvey’s shoulder, kisses Harvey’s neck, nudges his head between their bodies so he can suck on Rachel’s nipples. 

And then he does what Harvey did earlier - he shifts behind them, between their legs, so he can feel Harvey’s cock sliding in and out of Rachel’s cunt. 

“Oh my God,” he whispers. “This is so fucking hot. I get it now. You two are really hot together. Jesus.”

His words bring a blissful smile to Harvey’s face and he calls for Mike to return. There’s some shuffling around and swapping about, and Rachel ends up on her back again with Mike inside her and Harvey behind Mike, in between their legs. Doing something to Mike.

Whatever it is makes him freeze, and then throw his head back with a fast sigh.

“What’s he doing to you?” Rachel asks him, so turned on she might come. Harvey is doing things to Mike and Mike is loving it and there can’t be any regrets after this, because everything that’s happened has led to this perfect moment—

“He’s licking my balls,” Mike whispers. “Ohshitohshit. Oh fuck. He’s got his tongue in my—”

Mike starts to move again but even though his rhythm has gone somewhat erratic, the angle is just right, just perfect, right there, right there on her clit and oh dear god there it is there it is she’s coming— with Mike inside her, pumping his hips with more determination now that he’s noticed her orgasm, whispering yeah yeah yeah to encourage her through it, and when she’s done he stills. Thrusts in a few more times, and then asks her if she wants to keep going.

Rachel shakes her head, exhausted from top to toe, and is grateful when Mike pulls out and lets her budge away. “I need a minute. Let me watch you two.”

Mike smiles at her and lies down on his side facing her, and Harvey moves up the bed and slots himself behind Mike, rocking against him. “Isn’t she beautiful?” Harvey murmurs into Mike’s ear. 

“God yeah,” Mike agrees, smiling at Rachel in a kind of dazed awe. “That was amazing. I love seeing you come.”

Rachel beams at him. “Good, because I love coming.”

His laughter turns quickly into a gasp, and Rachel can’t quite see what Harvey’s doing right now, can’t quite muster the energy to crane her neck and find out, but Mike’s reaction makes her think that Harvey just inserted a finger into Mike’s ass.

Rachel moves closer until their bodies are touching, and places a tender kiss on Mike’s mouth. “How does it feel?” she asks him.

“Weird,” Mike admits. “Kinda nice.” He seems nervous, but by no means unhappy. “Has he done this to you?”

She gives him a conspiratorial smile. “Harvey likes anal sex. Don’t worry, you’re in good hands. It won’t even hurt, I promise.”

“Okay,” he says, breathing out. He twists his head around and addresses his next question to Harvey. “I thought you weren’t going to fuck me.” He sucks in air through his teeth as Harvey doesn’t stop what he’s doing. 

“I wasn’t going to,” Harvey says. “I changed my mind. Rach, come over here I want you to watch this.”

It’s the first time Harvey’s ever called her Rach. He must have picked it up from Mike. Rachel likes it.

Harvey orders Mike onto his hands and knees and Mike obeys him without protest. He spreads Mike’s ass cheeks open with his hands so Rachel can see his asshole: shiny and pink, surrounded by light brown fuzz. 

“We should get him waxed,” Rachel murmurs, and Harvey grins, nods his agreement. 

“I heard that, and no fucking way!”

Harvey picks up the bottle of lube—when did Harvey bring lube to the party? Who cares—and squirts some more into Mike’s crack, before dropping the bottle back onto the bed, spreading it up and down with his fingers and pressing two inside. His fingers slide in and out in an easy glide, there’s no resistance left, like Mike might be ready for something bigger.

“Keep working him open for me,” Harvey says to her, so she takes over fingering duties while Harvey fits himself with a fresh condom and slicks up his cock. “I want you to watch me enter him; you can watch me fuck him as long as you need to, but then...” He taps Mike on the hip. “How’s your erection?”

Mike looks over his shoulder at Harvey. “It’s kinda gone. Is that normal? I’m still really turned on.”

“Yeah, that’s normal. Once I start fucking you, get yourself hard again with your hand.”

“Okay.”

“Good boy.” And then Harvey curses under his breath, a quiet ‘oh fuck’, like he’s suddenly conscious of exactly how incredible this situation is. It’s a helpless expression full of lust and gratitude that causes Rachel to grin. Harvey positions himself behind Mike, grips his hip with one hand, and lines up his cock with the other. 

Rachel gapes at the sight of Mike’s hole stretching open around Harvey’s girth, taking him inside, that big cock pushing in deep, disappearing into Mike’s tight virgin ass. 

“Jesus I can’t believe you did that to me, you’re fucking huge,” she says, her eyes wide. “Are you okay, Mike?” Surely that must hurt. 

Mike’s panting hard, his voice a rough whisper. “Yeah...fuck...I’m good...oh fuck ohfuck...”

The sight of Harvey pulling out nearly all the way before pushing in deep again till his hips meet Mike’s ass cheeks, sends a spiral of lust dancing up Rachel’s spine. She can hardly believe what she’s seeing. This is her first threesome and she couldn’t dream up better partners; these gorgeous, extraordinary men who she loves so much are _having sex right now_. With each other. In front of her. And they look _good_. They sound even better. Harvey has flattened Mike down on the bed and is fucking him energetically, their bodies glistening with sweat, acres of skin and muscle glowing warm under the low light. And the noises they’re both making are sexy as hell, Harvey’s grunts and Mike’s helpless moans of pleasure, each time Harvey thrusts inside. It’s the wildest thing that’s ever happened to Rachel, spellbinding in its dangerous beauty. She’ll never regret this night. Never.

She doesn’t have the energy to join in at this precise moment, but it doesn’t matter because she’s intimately acquainted with Harvey’s almost excessive stamina—he’ll keep going until Rachel and Mike are ruined—so she’s perfectly happy just to sit back and watch the porn show. 

Harvey pulls out and Mike whips his head around with a “Wha..?”, demanding to know why Harvey has stopped, face flushed and dripping with sweat, the expression on it an adorable combination of wrecked, horny and confused. But he needn’t worry, Harvey’s just changing positions. Harvey sits up with his back against the headboard and beckons for Mike. “C’mere, sweetheart,” he says, and Mike crawls into his lap for a long, passionate kiss. But then: “Now turn around so Rachel can see your face.”

Mike rises up into a crouch and turns on his feet over Harvey’s lap before kneeling back down; up on his knees with his back slanted flush against Harvey’s chest and an arm around Harvey’s neck; Harvey wraps an arm around Mike’s torso and holds his cock at the base so Mike can sink down onto it. It’s a great position for Rachel because they’re both facing her with their legs spread wide, she can see _everything_ : the curve and crease of Harvey’s ass, his balls drawn tight up against his body, cock moving in and out of Mike’s stretched out hole, Mike’s balls and bouncing cock, and, best of all, their wet, debauched faces, contorted in ecstasy and utterly beautiful. 

She fondles Harvey’s calves while she watches them fuck. Harvey says to her, “Rachel honey, help me get him hard again.” He’s doing a pretty good job of that on his own, and Rachel is mesmerized by the sight of it stiffening in Harvey’s moving hand, almost reluctant to do as she’s told, not because she’s too worn out but because just _watching_ them is so gratifying. Then again, the harder Mike gets the more appetizing his cock looks. So she moves around to the side of them, bends down, takes him into her mouth and sucks, Harvey’s fist sliding up and down on Mike’s cock, the circle of his thumb and forefinger bouncing against Rachel’s lips.  
The desperate noises coming out of Mike’s mouth morph into the sweet sound of helpless babbling—

“I can’t I can’t it’s too much feels too good I can’t handle it oh god Harvey...Rachel—” 

Rachel looks up at the mention of her name and finds Mike gaping down at her. “Should I stop?”

“No,” he says, shaking his head, running a hand through her hair. Gripping the back of her head. He guides her back down, his now-rock-hard dick filling up her mouth until the tip of it hits the back of her throat and makes her gag. She backs up a little, breathing in sharply through her nose but is stopped pulling off entirely by the firm resistance of Mike’s hand; so she lets him have his way and goes down again. As she pushes back against his hand she sucks on him as hard as she can without using her teeth, a feeling of blissful triumph sparking beneath her skin as she listens to him whispering into the room, “oh jesus fuckng christ oh fuck me you’re incredible— ahhh—”

“Isn’t she?” Harvey says. Rachel looks up and sees them both gazing down at her. “You look so beautiful like this, Rach. I could watch you suck Mike’s cock all day.”

Mike throws his head back with a shudder, and groans.

“Do you wanna fuck her again, Mike?” 

Mike is nodding.

“I want you inside her while I’m inside you,” Harvey says.

Rachel releases Mike’s cock and sits up on her knees, leaning in until her breasts are pressed against the sides of their torsos, murmuring to Harvey, “That was supposed to be me.”

Without even slowing his hips, Harvey tilts his head and gives her a quizzical look.

“You promised that I’d be the one to have you both inside me.”

Harvey’s mouth curls into a pleased smile. “Next time.”

Mike mutters, “Goddamn perverts,” to which Harvey responds with a surprised, delighted laugh.

“Are you actually complaining right now?”

“No...just stating a fact...ohgod...I can’t believe you two planned this...I can’t believe I’m having gay sex with my boss…and his girlfriend who I’m in love with.”

Harvey’s thrusts get harder, but his voice turns soft and coy. “Do you like the gay sex?”

Mike turns his head to face him and snatches a messy kiss. “I wouldn’t still be sitting on your dick if I didn’t.” He then leans over to Rachel, who’s reeling from Mike’s declaration, and kisses her. Suddenly all she wants is Mike inside her. 

“I’m going to get you a condom,” she tells him.

Mike is nodding and Harvey’s smiling his approval at her. “Okay. Let’s do this,” Mike says.

It takes them a lot of trial and error, and a lot of laughter, complaining and ribbing each other (“Out of all of us I thought you’d know how to work this, Harvey.” “What makes you think I’m an expert at threesome sex positions? I haven’t had one of these since I was twenty eight, and that was with two women.” “Are you saying this is your first boy-boy-girl threesome? Are you saying you’re a bbg threesome virgin?” “You’re an idiot. Now shut up and lie on top of me.”) before they settle on a position for a while: Harvey flat on his back on the bed, Mike flat on his back on Harvey’s chest, Rachel crouching over Mike’s lap, arms stretched out and hands on Mike’s shoulders, for balance. They also try Rachel lying on her back with her ass right on the edge of the bed and her legs thrown over Mike’s shoulders, with Mike and Harvey standing on the floor. 

But the best position turns out to be the most comfortable, all three of them lying on their sides, with Harvey spooning Mike and Mike spooning Rachel, connected to each other through desire and touch and penetration, and when they eventually manage to find a rhythm it feels so good, and Rachel’s so proud of them, she hopes it lasts forever. 

Harvey has his arm slung over both Rachel and Mike’s waist and the room is filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin, harsh, ragged breathing, helpless moaning, and whispered obscenities. 

“I feel like,” Rachel says. “I feel like...you’re both inside me right now. Like...Harvey’s energy is reaching me through Mike’s body...it feels so amazing...”

They both agree with her, both breathe out their consensus - oh yeah oh god yeah fuck yeah fuck you both feel so good 

“Are you happy, Mike?” Rachel asks him. What she really means is, ‘are you still angry? Do you still hate us? Have you forgiven us?’ but she can’t ask those questions, not right now...

“I’m happy,” he replies but his voice is so sex-drenched Rachel probably shouldn’t take that as his final word. It doesn’t matter anyway, the only thing that matters is fucking and coming and being kissed and licked on her neck by Mike and knowing that Harvey is doing the same thing to Mike and that they all love each other. Mike’s hand is on her pussy, rubbing her clit with rhythmic fingers, driving her to orgasm. He must feel when she’s close, by the stutter in her breath, because he asks her in a strained whisper, “Are you gonna come?”

Getting the word out isn’t easy when she’s this close to the edge but she manages to gasp out a _yes_ which makes him drive into her harder and faster, whispering encouragement come on come on come on over and over into her ear. 

It hits her like a shock wave, an overwhelming assault of extreme pleasure pulsing through her veins, deliciously prolonged by the men behind her as they don’t let up fucking inside, Harvey into Mike, Mike into Rachel, and Mike’s breathing is getting higher, louder, shallower, until he chokes on a sigh, coming with Rachel, coming with his cock inside Rachel, and it’s too perfect too goddamn unbelievably fucking perfect to be real.

Through her post orgasm haze Rachel is vaguely aware of Mike extracting himself, of falling onto her back, of closing her eyes. When she eventually opens them and looks over at the guys, Harvey is straddling Mike and no longer wearing a condom. He’s yanking on his cock, panting loud, utterly _gone_ , and there it is: he gasps and shoots, all over Mike’s chest and belly in thick white spurts. Harvey runs his free hand through the mess to spread it around, rub it into Mike’s skin, and Mike just takes it with a dazed, docile smile.

None of them say a word to each other for about five minutes. They just lie there letting the sweat dry and their breathing even out, too exhausted to speak. Rachel doesn’t know what to say anyway.

It’s over. 

The question now is: will Mike stay the night?

Harvey answers that one for them all. “Let’s get under the covers,” he says, slipping off the bed, nodding at Rachel to follow suit. And Mike doesn’t protest, he just scoots up to the head of the bed so Harvey and Rachel can pull the duvet back and then he slides inside. Rachel wonders if Harvey’s reason for wanting Mike in the middle of them is the same as hers: so he can’t escape.

Mike wraps his arm around Rachel’s shoulders and she lays her head on his chest. Harvey lies on his side facing them, his hand resting on Mike’s stomach.

“You don’t regret it?” Rachel asks him.

Mike laughs a little, shaking his head. “No, God. Fuck no. How could I regret _that_?”

“It was pretty amazing, wasn’t it,” she says.

“That’s one of many words for it.”

He’s looking at Harvey, and there’s something behind his smile that makes Rachel’s chest tighten... 

“Why did you do this?” Mike says to him.

Harvey looks away for a moment and then back at Mike. It takes him an age to respond. “I didn’t wanna lose you.”

“So this was the choice you made?” The worry in Mike’s smile is dissolving, but his eyes remain serious. “Are you in love with me?”

That surprises Harvey into speechlessness, but Rachel’s pleased for the question because she’s dying to know the answer herself. She decides to help him. “It’s my theory that he is.”

“Excuse me?” Harvey says, looking at her with raised eyebrows.

“Oh come on, Harvey. If you think this night wasn’t about love you’re kidding yourself. It was about love for me. And for Mike too, I’m sure.”

Mike squints. “Well, that and blind rage.”

Rachel blinks. Glances at Harvey and catches his wince, before his expression shifts to amused. Mike huffs out a self-deprecating laugh that makes Rachel grin with relief. And then Mike lets the subject drop. Because it’s obvious—Mike’s blind rage notwithstanding—they all love each other, and it’s complicated and absurd and ridiculous and doomed. But it’s also the truth. And it’ll remain the truth no matter what happens after they wake up tomorrow. 

~

Woken by the sensation of sunlight warming her back and Rachel can’t understand where the heat is coming from, her bed is nowhere near a window. What’s going on? Where is she? There’s a body next to her. It’s Harvey, she’s at Harvey’s place...no...it’s not Harvey.

It’s Mike. 

Suddenly she’s wide awake, even though it must be early; too early. She sits up and rubs her eyes, the cloud in her brain slowly dissipating, clarity reasserting itself helped along by the extraordinary sight before her.

One of Harvey’s curtains isn’t properly closed and the sliver of sunlight peeking through the gap bathes the men in a sweet, dusty morning glow. Mike lies next to her, on his back but inclined slightly in Rachel’s direction; Harvey is on his stomach, head sunk deep in his pillow and facing Mike, arm slung over Mike’s waist. They look peaceful. If Rachel wasn’t already intimately acquainted with the depravity she knows they’re both capable of, she’d say they looked innocent. 

It’s a nice view to wake up to. 

The clock on the bedside table reads 8.16am. Way later than she would have guessed, but then, after all that exercise, it’s hardly surprising they needed a long rest.

Unsure what to do with herself—she’s not prepared to just get up—she watches them sleep for a while. Mike stirs first, blinking open his eyes like a newborn kitten, eventually focusing them on Rachel’s smiling face. 

“Morning,” she murmurs.

Mike carefully edges himself into a sitting position so as not to disturb Harvey, who doesn’t wake up but who does retrieve his arm from atop of Mike’s body, curling it over his own head and turning his cheek, clutching his pillow with his other arm. “Morning,” Mike says in a low, quiet voice. “How long have you been awake?”

“Couple minutes.” She’s pleased to see that Mike doesn’t look horrified about the situation he woke up to find himself in. In fact, he looks quite contented beneath his grogginess. “God I need a shower.”

The sweet sound of Mike laughing beneath his breath makes Rachel smile. “You and me both.”

Which gives her an idea. “Wanna go together?”

“Yeah.” He’s delighted by the suggestion. “Definitely.” He looks down at sleeping Harvey, his smile full of fondness and not a little bafflement. It’s gonna take Mike a while to process what happened there, Rachel suspects. Threeway aside, the fact that Mike slept with _Harvey_ has got to be freaking him out big time. “Will he mind?”

Rachel shakes her head. “Nope. He won’t mind. He’ll never be jealous of me and you.”

He’s still gazing down at the broad, olive-skinned expanse of Harvey’s upper back, no trace of last night’s bitterness left in his expression. He reaches out like he can’t help himself and runs a palm across Harvey’s shoulders, from one blade to the next. The touch elicits a muffled croak of appreciation from Harvey, although he doesn’t appear to wake up.

“Maybe he wants to join us,” Mike murmurs, drawing small circles on Harvey’s back with his palm, before scraping his fingertips up through the short hair on the back of Harvey’s neck. “Jesus, what is going on here? Come feel this.”

Rachel stretches her body over Mike’s and runs her hand through Harvey’s hair. “Dried sweat and a lot of product,” she says. 

The pleased noises Harvey is making take on a tint of annoyance. 

“Harvey, we’re gonna take a shower. Feel free to join us,” Mike says, jostling Rachel off the bed. Harvey harrumphs but does not otherwise move and when Rachel looks back at him from the door of the bedroom she grins. She’s pretty sure he’s fallen straight back into a deep sleep.

Mike is suitably impressed by Harvey’s endless bathroom (“What the fuck? This place is insane.”) and is perfectly happy to pee in front of Rachel while she fits Harvey’s electric toothbrush with the brush-head he gifted her the morning after her first night here. When her teeth are clean she removes it and slots it back into the brush-head organizer, next to Harvey’s, and then she has a hunt through the cabinets until she finds Harvey’s stock of new brush-heads, plucks one out of the packet and fits it with a colored ring of identification (Harvey’s is blue, Rachel’s is red, Mike’s is yellow). She attaches it to the toothbrush, hands it to Mike, and then deliberates for approximately three seconds before deciding fuck it and sitting down on the toilet. She needs to pee and he’s already made it clear this is not a bodily function that requires privacy, even watching her in the act with interest behind the whirring buzz of Harvey’s toothbrush. Rachel has never peed in front of Harvey (and vice versa) but she feels a…safeness with Mike that isn’t there with Harvey, not yet, and it makes this feel normal and okay and kind of amazing in a weird way. Because this is their first morning after the night before together, so how is she already this comfortable? The only thing that makes sense to her right now is that this is the first of many mornings they’ll spend together. No way does Rachel pee in front of a man who has no intention of seeing her again.

The shower is a large glass-doored room-in-itself, at one end of the bathroom, fitted with twin nozzles on opposite sides of the sand-colored marble walls, a bench at the left wall and a series of asymmetrical ledges lining the back wall, holding a range of expensive products. It’s a perfect space for two people, because they each get a showerhead to themselves.  
They alternate between talking, giggling, kissing and sponging each other all over with creamy body wash so deliciously scented Rachel bets it costs a hundred bucks an ounce. She feels increasingly excited by Mike’s growing erection and, actually, she wouldn’t say no to some steamy morning shower sex—she knows from experience that this shower is ideal for such a purpose—so when she’s done shampooing his hair she spins him around to face her and wraps her hand around his cock, stroking him nice and firm while he rinses out the suds. 

Clean all over but with an insatiable desire to get dirty again, Rachel winds her arms around Mike’s neck and this time puts a bit of intent behind her kiss, and when he grabs her ass in his hands she lets him lift her into his arms. Wraps her legs around him.

It doesn’t feel like an accident when the head of his cock slip-slides against the slippery opening of her vagina, because he doesn’t stop Rachel when she rolls her hips in a lazy circle until it hits exactly the right spot, and sinks down; cock pushing up inside her, making them both groan. Mike seems to be as turned on by doing this without a condom as Rachel is, the steady, continuous thrust of his hips an undeniable expression of his dangerous intent. He never stops kissing her. 

Maintaining the standing-carrying position they’re in requires a fair bit of strength and stamina, and while Mike isn’t exactly a weakling he is more of a book guy than a gym guy, he’s no Harvey, and he can’t comfortably maintain the position for long, so he sets Rachel down on the most ideally positioned shower ledge—where they can do this thing with Mike remaining in a standing position—nipping at her throat and fucking her, beneath a steady spray of hot water. 

“Are you on the pill?” he asks her.

Rachel shakes her head. “No. I plan to rectify that oversight some time next week but in the meantime, do not come inside me whatever you do.”

Mike grins. “I won’t.”

When she and Harvey did this last weekend they didn’t use a condom either, and afterwards he told her to go on the pill (“and get tested while you’re at it”) but she was so busy at work last week she was forced to miss her doctor’s appointment. Given her willingness to be careless with these guys she really needs to not leave it another week.

Mike screws her until she comes with a wail, and then he pulls his cock out of her and brings himself off with his hand, shooting all over her belly and watching in fascination as the water streams down her skin, washing the mess away. Like it was never even there.

Rachel exits the shower feeling all kinds of wonderful and wraps up her hair in one of Harvey’s gloriously soft white towels, dries herself with another. Mike has a smile on his face that just won’t quit, but when he’s dry, instead of wrapping the towel around his waist he drops it in the large wicker laundry basket sat in the corner of the room. Then he unhooks Harvey’s white toweling robe from the back of the bathroom door and puts it on.

They join the still-sleeping Harvey back on the bed, flopping down either side of him and continuing their conversation. 

Rachel is still horny, but too loose-limbed and sated to do anything other than curl herself around Harvey and breathe in the unwashed scent of him. His skin is hot and he smells _ripe_ and she shouldn’t love it as much as she does, but the smell of him, the Harvey stench of him, is attractive to her in ways unfathomable. At Harvey’s other side lies Mike, equally drawn to his sticky, leaden body; he rubs his lips and nostrils up and down the solid curve of Harvey’s bicep, inhaling deeply, whispering at him to wake up and join the land of the living. Mike’s poorly tied robe splays open and Rachel catches a glimpse of cock, at rest between his legs but apparently an orgasm doesn’t inhibit Mike’s desire for physical affection. 

They talk over Harvey, shifting positions periodically but never too far away from the man in the middle. They touch him while they chat—pet him, stroke him, scratch him, kiss him, lick him—but otherwise ignore the fact that he’s, for all intents and purposes, a witness to their conversation.

Mostly they discuss their unusual situation.

“What made you want this?” Mike asks her.

“You became a fixture in our sex life from the outset. All that talking about having sex with you I guess made us both desperate for it to happen in reality.”

“Desperate?” He grins. “I like that.”

“What I want to know is why did you go along with it?”

“Hey I never claimed to have any willpower. I knew what was going on the moment Harvey started feeling you up in front of me; after that, the progression of my thoughts on the matter pretty much went: I hate them. But they’re both really hot. Fuck me, my dick is hard. Well I am only human. And then…”

“Then?”

“I stopped feeling angry and I started feeling…loved. And that was the best feeling in the world.”

Rachel beams at him.

He’s shaking his head in bemusement. “What happens now?”

She shrugs. “We take one day at a time. I want to see you again.” She squeezes Harvey’s shoulder. “So does he.”

“But this makes no sense, you get that, right? It’s not a sustainable situation.”

“I know.” Rachel’s stomach growls. “Jesus I am starving. I barely ate a thing yesterday. Let’s get dressed and go make breakfast.”

Harvey moans in protest when she and Mike climb off the bed. “Don’t go,” he mumbles without opening his eyes.

Mike laughs. “Get up, Harvey. Don’t you want to have breakfast with us?”

He cracks open his eyes enough to glare at them, but his smile gives him away. Rachel combs out her damp hair and borrows one of Harvey’s shirts. She doesn’t bother putting on underwear, it’s in the other room and anyway, she likes going commando. 

“Come on,” Rachel says to Mike, grabbing his hand and leading him out the door. “Your clothes are in the other room. Let’s give Harvey some space. He’ll need about an hour, he takes longer than me to get ready.”

“Why does that not surprise me,” Mike replies.

~

Clowning around in Harvey’s kitchen with Mike is so much fun Rachel can’t stop giggling. Every cupboard door and drawer in the room is now open and they still haven’t managed to find the coffee. 

“Oh, here it is,” Mike says, plucking out a brown paper bag from the door of the freezer. 

“The freezer,” Rachel says, shaking her head. “Of _course_.” And then they both crack up laughing again even though it’s not particularly funny. 

She leaves Mike to figure out Harvey’s fancy, elaborate coffee machine while she raids the fridge for breakfast food: when she locates an air-sealed packet of smoked salmon, her eyes widen. “Score,” she says, grabbing it. 

She’ll make them scrambled eggs with smoked salmon and blow their minds. The key to the perfect scrambled eggs is to cook them on the lowest possible heat for the longest possible time (well that, and salt. And butter, of course. And, ideally, fresh parsley. Harvey does not have any fresh parsley); so when they’re done Harvey will have joined them. Hopefully.

Mike sidles up behind her while she’s cracking eggs into a bowl and slides his hands over her belly and then up, up, up to fondle her breasts. He kisses her neck. “Does this mean I’m allowed to touch your boobs whenever I want?”

She laughs. “You’re not allowed to touch them at work.”

“Well that doesn’t seem fair. What if no one’s around to see?” 

“Idiot,” she says, but she can’t keep the smile off her face.

In a freakish display of perfect timing, Harvey joins them in the kitchen just as Rachel is serving up. He’s dressed in khaki slacks and a white linen shirt, and his hair immaculate once more. His handsomeness should be illegal. If handsomeness were an Olympic sport, Harvey would win gold every time. Rachel glances at Mike and smiles at the look of open admiration on his face.

“Looking good, Harvey. And it only took you…” he glances at the time on the inside of his wrist. “Fifty seven minutes. That’s not okay by the way.”

Harvey ignores him, takes a seat at the counter and grabs a fork. He’s chewing a mouthful of eggs before Rachel has even sat down. “Damn,” he says, giving Rachel an appreciative nod. “These are good. You should cook for me more often.”

“Play your cards right and maybe I will.”

They all fall silent as they eat, but it’s a companionable silence, and when they’re done, Harvey helps Rachel clear up while Mike watches and drinks a second cup of coffee.

And then, out of nowhere, Mike stands up and says, “I should probably go.” 

Rachel’s chest tightens in panic, and even though she knows it’s ridiculous she feels it’s vitally important that she and Harvey prevent Mike from leaving right now no matter what. Thankfully Harvey seems to be on the same page.

“What’s your hurry? I give you permission not to do any work today.”

Mike shoots him a look. “Actually, I was gonna go visit my grandmother.”

“Yes you’re very noble. Come relax for a while and finish your coffee.” He tops up Mike’s cup. “It’s early, there’s plenty of time for Grammy later.”

The fact that Mike doesn’t argue with Harvey suggests to Rachel that he has no real desire to leave; he’s just confused about what he’s supposed to do with himself now. It’s fortunate that Harvey’s desire to stretch out this experience is shameless enough for him to vocalize it, so all Mike needs to do is follow instructions and the three of them can continue being together. They make their way over to the couch and sit down, Mike in the middle of them, Rachel sitting sideways with her back against the arm of the couch, facing the boys. Mike sets his mug down on the coffee table and reaches behind his neck, squeezing it in his hand with a wince. 

“You okay?” Harvey asks him.

Mike responds by circling his head on his shoulders, stretching his neck in both directions. “Yeah, just. My neck’s a little tight.”

“Come here.” Harvey pulls one of his legs up onto the couch, making space for Mike to budge into the space between Harvey’s thighs and gratefully accept a massage. Mike stretches out his legs and pushes the heel of one bare foot into the naked space between Rachel’s legs; the other he lifts and places in her hands to be rubbed. She presses firm thumbs into its heel and strokes upward through its sole; gets his other foot wet with the lazy, continuous roll of her hips.

The moan that escapes from between Mike’s parted lips is like music to her ears. 

Several minutes into the neck-to-toe massages, Rachel notices the growing bulge in Mike’s jeans. His eyes are closed and his smile and the little noises he’s making are dreamy, content, full of pleasure; behind him, Harvey looks aroused too, as he kisses Mike’s neck and his hands begin to roam; all over Mike’s stomach and chest and throat. When Harvey pulls off Mike’s t-shirt, Mike reacts by reaching between his legs and squeezing his cock. Unzipping his fly. 

“We had sex in the shower this morning, Harvey,” Mike whispers, slipping a hand into his jeans and adjusting himself. “And we didn’t use a condom.”

Harvey’s kiss turns into a bite, but he’s smiling. 

Mike’s head is lolling back against Harvey’s shoulder, a blissful smile on his face, eyes still closed. “What do you want from me? What do you both want?”

Harvey pulls Mike’s hand from his pants and replaces it with his own, and Mike bucks up into the touch. “I want to keep seeing you. And I want to keep seeing Rachel. Both separately and together.”

Mike lifts his hips and shoves down his jeans and boxers, lets Rachel tug them off and drop them on the floor by the couch. It’s sexy that he doesn’t mind being naked while Harvey is fully dressed; she loves his sensuality, his exhibitionism, his pliability; she loves the look on his face when he’s aroused. 

“What about me and Rachel?” Mike says. “Would you mind if we saw each other without you there?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Harvey shakes his head. “I’d expect nothing less.” Hand twisting on Mike’s cock, tongue tracing the edge of Mike’s ear. “God you’re pretty.”

Mike arches his back and twists his body around so he can kiss Harvey, before clambering up onto his knees and straddling Harvey’s lap, hips moving in a fast, desperate rhythm. Rachel decides the view will be better from the couch opposite—she can’t be bothered doing more than watch right now and it’s Harvey’s turn anyway; she’s already had Mike once this morning—so she stands up, slinks over to the other couch and slides into a recline, her temple resting on her fist and her eyes fixed wide open on her companions. 

Both men turn their heads towards her. “Where you going?” Harvey asks, looking and sounding drugged, decadent—this naked, needy boy in his arms, grinding against him, gorgeous and pliant, craving Harvey’s attention.

“I wanna watch,” Rachel murmurs with a smile.

Mike nods, turns back to Harvey and gazes at him, slowing his circling hips to a pace more languid. 

He stops moving. “Your face,” he murmurs, staring at Harvey, touching his lips with curious fingertips. Rachel shifts her gaze to see what Mike is talking about: the muscles in Harvey’s cheeks are slack with desire, his eyes cloudy with want. 

“What?”

Mike’s eyes are traveling all around Harvey’s face, studying him, drinking him in. “I never thought I’d be on the receiving end of a look like that.”

“Don’t put yourself down.” Harvey replies, deadpan. “You’re very attractive.”

“Hardy har,” Mike says, rolling his eyes. “I meant from you, dickhead.”

Harvey responds to Mike’s insolence with a hard slap to his ass, and Mike yelps. Starts moving again in a wild fashion. Harvey runs his hands up and down Mike’s back, squeezing his ass, his own hips moving in time with Mike’s, and God, they’re getting off on this so much and they look so fucking good together Rachel has to shove a hand between her legs, arousal pouring through her veins. 

They’re ridding Harvey of his clothes now: Mike works on the buttons of Harvey’s shirt, Harvey unzips his fly, and then Mike kneels up so Harvey can lift his hips and push down his pants and underwear. Only Mike won’t let Harvey strip completely; he sits back down in Harvey’s lap, leans in and presses his lips to Harvey’s mouth, distracting Harvey from his mission by sliding their cocks together. Harvey’s arms are still in his sleeves but his shirt splays open, baring his chest, his pants pooled at mid-thigh. 

Mike breaks the kiss, looking at Harvey from beneath his lashes, sounding almost bashful when he says, “Are you gonna do that thing you did last night?”

The smile on Harvey’s face resembles the smile of a super villain who has just been told his dastardly plan has finally come to fruition. “What thing would that be?”

Mike’s eyelids flutter shut and he tips his head back, baring his throat to Harvey’s greedy mouth. “That thing you did to me.”

“Tell me what I did to you.” Harvey’s got Mike’s hips in a vice-like grip and he’s controlling the speed with which Mike rocks against him. “Tell me what you want.”

A flush creeps up Mike’s neck and spreads to his cheeks, but he leans forward again, lips against Harvey’s ear, and Rachel can only just make out what he’s saying. “You fucked me.”

“You want that again?”

Mike looks reluctant to admit it but Rachel knows as well as Harvey does that he wouldn’t have brought it up if he didn’t want it again.

“Are you gonna do it?” Mike asks instead. 

Harvey cups Mike’s cheeks in his hands and kisses him deep and thorough. “Tell me you want it.”

“No,” Mike says. It’s an absurd twist on the game of Chicken, because they’ll both get what they want, they’ll both win. Harvey wants it as much as Mike does. His hard cock slides between Mike’s ass cheeks. Rachel stands up. 

They’re going to need lube.

She retrieves the bottle from Harvey’s bedroom but leaves the condoms behind. If she can have unprotected sex with both of them, they can with each other as well. They’re still facing off when she returns; neither is willing to break. Rachel perches on the couch by Harvey’s thigh, her bare knee pressed into the sole of Mike’s left foot. It’s too hot in here. She undoes the buttons on her shirt, letting it fall open, and presses a hand under Mike’s ass, urging him to kneel up so she can get to Harvey’s cock. 

“I won’t give it to you if you don’t tell me how much you need it.”

“Yes you will,” Mike says, smug in a way Rachel knows won’t calm Harvey down.

She pours a dollop of lube into her palm, rubs her hands together, and smooths them up and down Harvey’s erection, before pressing fingers into Mike’s crack, circling his anus with the tip of her index finger and inserting it to very little resistance. Oh he’s such a natural at this. He might be too stubborn to admit it right now but he wants to be fucked so badly it’s both a crying shame and a glorious honor that he only discovered the joys of anal stimulation last night, with Rachel and Harvey. 

When Rachel is satisfied that Mike is sufficiently prepped she pulls her fingers free and grabs Harvey’s cock, holding it upright so Mike can get in position. But Mike doesn’t sink down. He rests. Slowly rotates his hips in a maddening tease. Waits for Harvey to yield. 

Rachel returns to her couch to watch them play.

Harvey’s teeth are clenched and it looks like it’s taking every ounce of restraint he has inside him not to forcibly push Mike down onto his cock. 

“Say it,” Harvey says. “Tell me how much you need me inside you.”

And that seems to do it, Mike breathes out a series of expletives and tries to push down on Harvey’s cock, but Harvey just tightens his grip on Mike’s hips, doesn’t allow him to move. 

“No, no Harvey, no, just let me.”

“Say it.” Mike’s tilts his head backwards, but Harvey’s having none of it. “Look at me.” So Mike’s head falls forward again, and he blinks his eyes into focus. “Say it,” Harvey says again.

No more games, no more faux resistance, there’s no point any more. Mike wants it too much and Harvey’s will is stronger. It’s said in a whisper but Rachel hears it clear as a bell. “I need your cock.” 

As soon as he says it Harvey’s hips rise and Mike sinks down; they both _groan_.

“Oh yeah,” Harvey murmurs. They kiss. 

They start slow but quickly work up to vigorous and noisy, Mike riding Harvey hard and Harvey’s hips practically flying off the couch as he thrusts up, up, up. 

Rachel masturbates.

She knows Harvey’s sex faces well enough by now to know that he’s gonna come soon. Mike’s probably not, but he’s already had an orgasm this morning so that’s okay, and she’s more than willing to help get him off again when he’s ready. Faces jammed together as they fuck, like they can’t get close enough to each other; Mike drags his mouth up Harvey’s wet cheek, licks at Harvey’s lips, kisses him, tastes him; they’re murmuring something to each other but Rachel can’t make it out. She doesn’t mind. Sometimes intimacy doesn’t have room for a third person. Maybe they’ve forgotten that she’s there but it doesn’t matter - as far as she’s concerned she’s still a part of it. Her contribution to this moment is her gaze, and her love, and her desire for them to be together. 

This, Rachel decides, is what’s called living the dream: making love to two beautiful men who want each other as much as they want her. Making a commitment to them both. Admitting that to choose between them is impossible. Knowing that neither of them can make that choice either. 

They’ll do this until it doesn’t work any more. She’s not stupid. It’s not forever. One of them will leave eventually; maybe it’ll be her, maybe it’ll be Mike, maybe it’ll be Harvey. But for now this dream is hers to share with them, and no one’s waking up.

 

~fin~


End file.
